PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sit outside, beneath the misty clouds,
Stark white against the black, night sky,
Highlighted by pinpricks in the swathe of midnight velvet,
Creamy swells of startling detail, tinted rose a bare hour before,
As the sun stained it with it's dying gaze.

Staring into the unblinking one-eyed gaze of the moon,
I lie back, as the eye closes, and Lady Lunar starts to cry.
The drops of dew and rain sharp with cold against my neck, face, hands,
Creating a myriad of diamonds encrusting the dying, green grass,
And covering my skin.

I let my mind drift, tossing like a storm-blown yacht,
And try and remember what it is that we are living for,
Pensive, mind pacing around the issues that plague these times,
Of emancipated children, blood drying in the streets,
Secret attackers, stealthy weapons,
Causing destruction, the smoke only just about to clear.
But the world around me offers distraction,
And, fool that I am,
I let my thoughts be led.

The sharp scents of the night are rich within my mind,
Salty breezes, wafting from the nearby ocean shores,
Almost makes the sound of waves pound in my ears,
And just before I curb my thoughts to their original path,
Leaving the night filled garden to itself,
The living smell of peppermint creates an image for my night-blind eyes,

An image of a creature moving among the trees,
Crushing shoots and leaves beneath its paws,
While dark, dinner-plate eyes look out,
Startled at the sudden sigh of the being dressed in black,
Now still, lying on the cold green grass,
A softly gleaming sun clasped between her hands,
Pondering the value, the merit of the world.

And the tears continue to fall.