PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There are some nights as I witness the pale moon

glowing in the sky I fall into a deep silence.

I take the violin to play a melancholic tune

pining for the you I remember.

The notes make slow love to the still air

just as the memories flow out of my fragile heart.

To see the crying moon drift in the sea of stars

brings a mixed blessing to my eyes.

Aromatic rose petals of sweet sorrow permeate the calm air.

And the air a rosy potpourri bag filled

with fragmented pieces of happiness.

Closing my eyes when tears shower the ground

the soothing memory of us revives my vision of you.

Gravity suddenly means nothing to me.

I feel I can fly if for a little while

when the violin's music plays.

Even when my legs are planted firmly on the ground

my weightless spirit will glide trying to reach the crying moon.

I smile faintly feeling both happy and sad.

But the crescent object in the sky is sadly washed away

just when the early sun arrives.

This ephemeral feeling bitterly ends when I see

I can never touch the crying moon at all...