I wait for the moon;
she is holder my secrets,
holder of my dreams.
I sent many prayers
her way,
wishes and kisses
I've bounced off her
to lovers far away.
She bathes
the windowsill
as I gaze,
eyes glaze over
memories
and future plans.
I know
this cool, blue lady
does not belong
only to me,
but the essence
of this longing,
this incompleteness
in my soul
belongs only
to her.
I wait for the moon
and she never
forgets.
[For Poets United at http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2018/01/poet-united-midweek-motif-moon.html)
Beautiful thoughts under a blue moon. So nice to see you, Buddah.
ReplyDeleteThis warms my heart, deep and true. I love the moon as secret keeper and treasure box. And I adore you.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this from beginning to end. She is holder of my dreams...yes there is something mystical about her presence.
ReplyDeleteAnd of course, she keeps the secrets voiced here. Love this.
ReplyDeleteSo true. She sees all, and never does forget.
ReplyDeleteMoon is a lovely holder of dreams and wishes. Beautiful, B.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous poem. And great to see you!
ReplyDelete"She bathes the windowsill as I gaze, eyes glaze over memories and future plans" gosh this is so beautiful!!💞
ReplyDeleteelegant, Mosk ~
ReplyDelete