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clmathew Dec 2020
When heaven turns from light to dark
the substance remains the same
but the sense of it changes.

What was just clearly seen
now shadows only hint at
ghostly outlines of mouse giants.

Now the moon with her varied phases
rules the shaded depths
in this time of her dominion.

The petals of the moss rose
curl up in close surrender
bereft of the sun's bright light.

That which was bold
curls up under evergreens
to sleep on a bed of pine needles.

Owls pierce the night sky
derisive of the night-blind masses
as they dive for their just rewards.

All waits for the heavens
to turn back once again
from dark to light.
  Dec 2020 clmathew
basil
sometimes
i wish you were the poet
because sometimes
i just want to be the poem
  Dec 2020 clmathew
Yashashvi
maybe like the moon – a part of them is hidden away
that’s why they always seem to smile
and when all of theirs is visible,
I crave to see their mythical presence
is it brighter on the this side and darker on the other side
or would it just be fine being visible half a part?


yep, i have still more questions lets talk them in another writing ........
clmathew Dec 2020
Longing for the sun
written March 6th, 2020

Do vampires long for the sun?

Do they sit in their safe shade
and reach a pale cold finger
towards the brightness of the sun?

Do they dream of standing in the open
faces turned upwards towards a sun so bright
they have to close their eyes?

Do they lift their arms
in sun salutations
adoring the sun?

Do they yearn to feel the sun
touching every inch
of their naked skin?

Do they paint
picture after picture
of worlds filled with sun?

Do vampires long for the sun?
I am often stuck inside. I go through decades of my life where the only way I get outside is with my hubby. About a year ago, it had rained for weeks. There were 2 days predicted for sun, and hubby was working all of both of them. I cried and shut the blinds and tried to pretend it wasn't sunny out. I just couldn't get outside on my own then. Now, the last poem I posted, was about me actually walking outside, on my own, in the sun and the shadows. I'm not thrilled with the vampire imagery in this poem, but who except maybe a vampire, could understand how badly I wanted to be outside in the sun.
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