the waxing moon comes up by the
old willow like a friend, unfettered
and vaguely hopeful too.
ribbons of rosy cloud up there
in the twilight and the first star,
night birds in the hedgerow,
a horned owl hunting the night.
hold them close these celestial
turnings great and small, the perfect
starlight pouring itself out like honey
and manna over the fragrant garden.
(me, with apologies)
3 comments:
What a stunning photograph and I love the idea of starlight pouring like honey, absolutley deliciously divine.
Hi Kerrdelune,
You are the lady of the moon. I was hoping to find a lunar inspired post here, if not today than in a couple. :) Your poem is beautiful.
Hi there, Nokomis!
Your poem is beautiful!
"Starlight pouring itself out like honey and manna over the fragrant garden" - wow! Truly, you have such a gift with words (and photography!)
Thinking of you...and smiling!
With love,
Prairie Star
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