deepundergroundpoetry.com
love songs of innocence―no. 3
i told the moon i loved her
“Tell me the story...
About how the sun loved the moon so much...
That she died every night...
Just to let him breathe...”
―Hanako Ishii
i told the moon i loved her.
she did not answer me,
for there was too much sea,
and i had not yet moved her
to glance in my direction.
i sang for her one night,
when all the stars gave bright,
inclandestine reflection.
and when she turned to face me,
arrested in my track,
i stood there looking back,
hoping she would embrace me.
'twas then i heard the whisper
of moonlight on my ear:
a quiet psalm, but clear,
that made the evening crisper.
when i am fully grown up,
i want to take a ride
where moons and stars abide,
and broken lives are sewn up.
© Copyright 2023 July 19
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
“Tell me the story...
About how the sun loved the moon so much...
That she died every night...
Just to let him breathe...”
―Hanako Ishii
i told the moon i loved her.
she did not answer me,
for there was too much sea,
and i had not yet moved her
to glance in my direction.
i sang for her one night,
when all the stars gave bright,
inclandestine reflection.
and when she turned to face me,
arrested in my track,
i stood there looking back,
hoping she would embrace me.
'twas then i heard the whisper
of moonlight on my ear:
a quiet psalm, but clear,
that made the evening crisper.
when i am fully grown up,
i want to take a ride
where moons and stars abide,
and broken lives are sewn up.
© Copyright 2023 July 19
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Published 21st Jul 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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21st Jul 2023 3:01pm
25th Jul 2023 4:21pm
An interesting concept, I daresay, Cipher_O. And that wouldn't miss you, obviously!
When I was a boy, all adults and children around me believed there was a man in the moon, carrying a bundle of sticks on his head. I swear I could see him -- then. By now, he must have aged and died, so the psalms must be his elegy.
Thanks for walking on my moon and adding him to your list.
Sincerely
cab
When I was a boy, all adults and children around me believed there was a man in the moon, carrying a bundle of sticks on his head. I swear I could see him -- then. By now, he must have aged and died, so the psalms must be his elegy.
Thanks for walking on my moon and adding him to your list.
Sincerely
cab
