In the deep corners of 3am,
I find her.

The dark filled the night sky,
Then she was born on the first of July.
Filled the dark with her light,
singing a song, with all her might.

Nothing could be more poetic,
with her songs to all that is cosmic.
But, the fear of falling,
would make her feel blue.
So, she would step down,
calls herself New.

Yet, she keeps everyone hopeful,
with all the phases, from crescent to full.
Despite the fear of falling,
she still watches from the sky,

Avoiding oblivion, watching,
with each of her eyes.

When darkness fills the sky,
she, and her Moonlight will be your guide.
Singing you a song, accompanying you

through oblivion.

I sit here listening,
to words, you have yet to speak
knowing that for you,
I would lose everything to the sea

fireflies glow, with memories
sewn into my bones
remembering the way we spoke
to the wind  

promises fade; lost in translation

In an existence described as
Both boring and sere
She’s like a bright flower
Popping up in the sun.

Blooming in deserty
Rubble and sand.
Her fresh petals
Offer enticing perfume.

Her existence belies
The grimness of the surroundings
And provides a disguise
For the harsh reality of life.
                 ljm

Like the wind whispers everywhere
Caressing everything while passing
Such is the essence of this life
enlightening of heart and soul
to come to  peace of mind.
Everlasting.

Shell ✨🐚

Her lips are like
wet orchids, dressed in
the spring rain,
waiting to be
kissed and
caressed.