Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Diminished

I long for the moon
while embracing the sun
every morn like a lover returned,
for each time I swoon
and my pulse starts to run
means the pale one’s advances were spurned;

but late in the night
as I pensively peer
at the radiant face I adore
I am stung by the bite
of a burgeoning fear
that our triad will soon be no more.

7 comments:

Noah the Great said...

This is terribly depression. I'm thinking of writing something special.

ozymandiaz said...

Thate were no fear, that were a skeeter.
I love the rhythme of this
And the moon, she be special im me heart also.
Argg.

The Mad Celt said...

I'm reading you...great stuff...let the creation flow.

The Mad Celt

paisley said...

this has an amazing sense of rhythm to it.. i really enjoyed it...

Shirley said...

Brilliant as always!

jigar said...

i really found your poems short sweet and interesting.... your style is different.... even i write poems.... and i have just opened up my blog... u can c my poems on the following link.... do let me know how u find them ....ie... if u get the time... keep up the good work... i'll follow up ur poems .....http://share-read.blogspot.com/

rch said...

Hey Noah, everything you write is special ;)

Well oz that brings to mind a song but I won't go there :D

Hi MC, thanks for stopping by, it's still flowing.

Hi paisley, thanks it took a while to get it going.

Shirley, you rock!

Hi jigar, thanks I will check you out also, glad this struck a chord with some people (ooh that was bad)