She softly whispered as she strained her neck,
her eyes
veering somewhat to the right, hoping to capture the dim glow
of the pale, pallid moon matching
the colouring of her
ashen face
whose
contours revealed the tracks
of her tears,
the incessant weeping. and it was as thus
as she drearily walked beneath
a starlit sky praying
to sight a
new
star high in the east near the far reaches where Andromeda lie
wanting to catch a glimmer of Cassiopeia where her lover
may rest within her arms, longing he would never
feel alone she as she upon his
leaving.
she wept, and I could not bring solace to her,
fair-skinned and frail, revealing a faint
whisper of a smile, a glint of
sadness within her
eyes.
i felt no comfort, knowing
i had failed, what
am i to have
done
so,
leaving her within in a weakened state of despair,
as if i had taken all of which remained
of her strength. whom am i
to have left her
in that
manner of suffering, little, of what
was left of she, leaving me
only to wonder…
I know
she loved cotton candy, white summery dresses where
a whisper of a wind could easily pass through
the woven material. I knew, she loved
hot tea and honey, talking
walks beneath
a full
moon, the effervescent scent of a scarlet red rose…
I knew she loved getting close while watching
a romantic movie, buttered popcorn,
and an ice, cold coke a cola,
I knew she loved
riding
on
passenger trains as you imagine living in the city, the train passes
by. she loved slow dancing, vinyl records, putting a quarter
into a jukebox, playing a friendly game of dart’s.
window shopping, mannequins all
dressed up, being dolled
up, riding bicycles
down a
long, winding hill, butterflies fluttering just past your eyes,
ahead
showing off their colourful, iridescent gossamer
wings. gazing at sunsets, the moon rising
in the sky, the way the sun rises
in an early dawn, as a
gentle wind,
lies
softly whispering. the way darkness fades away leaving to breathe
in all the beauty which surrounds her. snowflakes, their
many six-sided shapes, hearing a bullfrog
croaking near a shallow
lake,
hash browns, four slices of bacon, two eggs, sunny side-up,
strawberry jam spread evenly on two slices of toast,
hearing the sound of laughter, the deafening
sound of a clap of thunder,
lightening bolts
arching
against a midnight sky and the feeling of terror as the crash nearby
hummingbirds flittering by, the sound of a whip poor-wills
mourful cry and a tear wept in the
corner of her
eyes.
“shoot
.for the moon..”
she softly whispered as she strained her neck,
her eyes
veering somewhat to the right, hoping to capture the dim glow
of the pale, pallid moon matching
the colouring of her
ashen face
whose
contours revealed the tracks
of her tears,
the incessant weeping. and it was as thus
as she drearily walked beneath
a starlit sky praying
to sight a
new
continued futher
star high in the east near the far reaches where Andromeda lie
wanting to catch a glimmer of Cassiopeia where her lover
may rest within her arms, longing he would never
feel alone she as she upon his
leaving.
she wept, and i could not bring solace to her,
fair skinned and frail, revealing a faint
whisper of a smile, a glint of
sadness within her
eyes.
i felt no comfort, knowing
i had failed, what
am i to have
done
so,
leaving her within in a weakened state of despair,
as if i had taken all of which remained
of her strength. whom am i
to have left her
in that
manner of suffering, little, of what
was left of she, leaving me
only to wonder…
I know
she loved cotton candy, white summery dresses where
a whisper of wind could easily pass through
the woven material. I knew, she loved
hot tea and honey, talking
walks beneath
a full
moon, the effervescent scent of a scarlet red rose…
I knew she loved getting close while watching
a romantic movie, buttered popcorn,
and an ice, cold coke a cola,
I knew she loved
riding
on
passenger trains as you imagine living in the city,
the train passes
by. she loved slow dancing, vinyl records, putting a quarter
into a jukebox, playing a friendly game of dart’s.
window shopping, mannequins all
dressed up, being dolled
up, riding bicycles
down a
long, winding hill, butterflies fluttering just past your eyes,
showing off their colourful, iridescent gossamer
wings. gazing at sunsets, the moon rising
in the sky, the way the sun rises
in an early dawn, as a
gentle wind,
lies
softly whispering. the way darkness fades away leaving to breathe
in all the beauty which surrounds her. snowflakes, their
many six-sided shapes, hearing a bullfrog
croaking near a shallow
lake,
hash browns, four slices of bacon, two eggs, sunny side-up,
strawberry jam spread evenly on two slices of toast,
hearing the sound of laughter, the deafening
sound of a clap of thunder,
lightening bolts
arching
against a midnight sky and the feeling of terror as the crash nearby
hummingbirds flittering by, the sound of a whip poor-wills
mourful cry and a tear wept in the
corner of her
eyes.
About James Sterling
James began writing at the age of 13, till now he has published about 12500 pages of poetry on Facebook! He retired from work at the age of 62.
James is proud to share that he never edits what he has written, and that is the beauty of his writing!!
As a reader, we are aware of the magical/unearthly beauty of the moon. In this poem, James brings out another perspective about the same magical/unearthly quality of the moon through his wonderful words.
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