Sunday, June 29, 2014


The moon peeking through my kitchen window.

Have you ever watched the night?
when slivers of stars cut through
to accompany the moon
already laughing,
self-aware of its splendor even when new.
The moon knows it will grow
big, round, projecting a sheet of glow,
gently caressing whatever
rests or moves on earth,
singing a silent lullaby
to those who glisten
in her beams of soft flow.

Must be nice to be the moon.
To go around the world

brightening it,

loving it,

even when clouds darken its view,
or people create sheets of smoke
concealing beauty, constricting growth,
strangling their own Mother, who gives

The moon keeps on
what it knows.

(Submitted to Poets United.)


  1. smiles...yes it does...esp when it gets little itself...only able to give love...and never receive it because of its distance from us...

  2. I LOVE this poem! The moon "already laughing" and "doing what she knows". Fantastic poem, mi amigo!

  3. there is something about the moon, i agree :)

  4. Anothetr very nice and tender piece Myrna - I like your style... With Best Wishes Scott

  5. The moon - a cool guy indeed... We all love the cool reflection of the sun's delight..

  6. A wonderful expression of the moon

  7. I love the idea of the moon knowing and loving--beautiful piece!

  8. I love the personification of the moon, brightening and loving the world ~ Beautifully written Myrna ~

  9. Yes, the moon keeps on beaming; and there can be some comfort in that indeed.

  10. Nice one, have a good Sunday

    Much love

  11. I adore poems about the moon..and the moon keeps on being, beaming doing what it true..

  12. The moon with all its glamour seen from a distance is fantastic! The shine of brightness is very unlike those images of Neil Armstrong hopping around at the end of his journey! Nicely taken Myrna!


  13. A beautiful homage to the moon, Myrna. I love that you are writing about the moon as, I, too was & will always be a passionate admirer of her. Very lovely, thank you. Smiles.

  14. Your poem reminded me of Mr. Flood's Party, in which the moon plays such a prominent role. I was always struck by the phrase "the silver loneliness of night" as indeed, the moon does make the night silverish.

    "'Only a very little, Mr. Flood—
    For auld lang syne. No more, sir; that will do.'
    So, for the time, apparently it did,
    And Eben evidently thought so too;
    For soon amid the silver loneliness
    Of night he lifted up his voice and sang,
    Secure, with only two moons listening,
    Until the whole harmonious landscape rang—"

    And then there's Heine's poem about the skeleton dancing in the churchyard. It ends"

    "It fiddles and leaps and dances
    And rattles its bones to the tune'
    And its skull keeps nodding and nodding
    Crazily under the moon."

    I've memorized these and a great more poems, most recently "The Raven."