988

[To Mark Let the poetic sound of moons and stars invade your night thoughts to give you sweet dreams always for in your dreams lies the happiness you truly want. hope you enjoy the book Michelle ]

GOODNIGHT MY SWEET

Shall i describe my moon to you,
Unlike that dame living in a shoe?

It's good to be under the open stars,
I' m surely nowhere near mars.

But is not your moon my moon?
Ah! to see you close i swoon.

For i read from pages of love,
And yearn for your tender love.

Just the way it used to be, sweet.
Goodnight my love until we meet.

GOODNIGHT MY SWEET © gillena cox 2022

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

On the flyleaf

 Challenge: Pick ONE inscription from a list given as topic for your poemPlace the chosen inscription as epigraph at the start of your postEnter this portal to the past and use your imagination.

REVISIT

2019118

spoonfuls of longing

longing is etched

683

["lover boy and girl with red heart balloons" image from google dot com]

MAYBE A POEM SWEETHEART
Once i was young, and the moon,
Round and complete, lured my sigh
Many a night in a darkening swoon
There she was, round and ever so high.

Fantasy soared, jump, touch that moon
Bright-cold or pale-gold-hot
Growing takes eons and eons, none too soon
Her texture to know; maybe, maybe not.

There was no need of space ships then
Nursery rhymes could achieve so much
Her pages opened, and that was when
The words flew it passengers as such

Once too, our love was young
The two of us holding hands, looking
We basked in our favourite song
And there was the moon, full round watching.

Some such innocence tugs at the heart
Maybe a poem to write then, sweetheart.
MAYBE A POEM SWEETHEART © gillena cox 2019


Blog hopping today with

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Longing
Prompted by Sumana


REVISIT
27 November 2018
27 November 2016
27 November 2015


ENJOY THE MUSIC
Regina Belle - This Is Love

Monday WRites 203

THIS DROUGHT
Two A.M. i stir spoonfuls of longing into this drought
This cup of hot days, arid and dry as coconut brittle
Even the bird songs refuse the scherzando as they ought
They trill the dawn, then rest and hide from the scorching
Savouring dawn, stirring spoonfuls of longing into this drought
Ah for the wildflowers showery, and brash in spontaneity
Caring neither for rock nor rill, nor earthworms of any sort
I look back to long ago when hot days were not so scorching
Back then, talk of climate change, we shelved as we bought
Never understanding the intensity of future torrid days
Thus, two A.M. i stir spoonfuls of longing in this drought
THIS DROUGHT © gillena cox 2019

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Tis the Season of Easter and here in T&T while we delight in the blossoming Poui trees and the returning alleluias, it is extremely hot, folks say it hotter than many years ago and i agree, i remember a less intense dry season heat, without the Sahara Dust, when i was a child
You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea). A Happy Monday to all
Welcome to Monday WRites #203, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites.

Copy this code, pin my button to your blog
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Blog Hopping today with

Mosaic Monday
#25 Blowing Off The Dust

AND


Artist's Retreat

❧✿❧

ENJOY THE MUSIC



REVISIT
29 April 2018
29 April 2017
29 April 2016

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