the moon worshipper

I follow your light
at times hiding behind clouds
others, reflecting off the hills
the river a mirror

nights I love the most
your light casts a shadow
I take in shades of black:
darkness is beautiful still

I go through the day
only because at dusk
you’ll come home to me

~~~

© annie scribes 2018
all rights reserved

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nay (no way)

Magenta bougainvillea bushes never saw me write and erase and write and erase verses for you. (Those lines were too cheesy for my taste anyway.)

No, I shared nothing with the moon. She’s never heard of you. She does not know about the wishes hanging on the edge of my slumber, either.

And heck no, I definitely did not whisper love to the wind so he could carry it far, to where you are.

~~~

For February Prompts, ‘dedicated to denial’.

© annie scribes 2018
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lost in senses

Night falls and darkness descends, responding to flickering flame of candles on the windowsill.

Other senses heightened to feel nibble on the neck, taste caresses of the lips, hear whispers in my ear.

Owls, keen to tell the moon a tale, except she was too busy watching us explore every inch of each other’s skin, tongues dancing the night away.

~~~

For February Prompts, ‘erotic sentiments’.

© annie scribes 2018
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a short trip

hand-in-hand
off intended path
chasing dreams
away from prying eyes

moon the only witness
vows and promises
written in the sand

(wiped away when morning comes)

some roads stretch all the way
to their destination
others last but for a season

~~~

For January Writing Prompts, ‘moonlit excursions’.

© annie scribes 2018
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they found strength in forsaken spaces

something was different tonight
diffident sky refused to sit still and listen
to the same old tale told for many moons

muted forest the only living thing
hearing the sound of shuffling feet
dragging weary hearts to the door
of abandoned cottage

narrow creek lost its ripples ever since
nearby trees stopped singing
and blue birds no longer arriving
in flocks to celebrate spring

around the corner rusting wheelbarrow
untouched for hundreds of days
smiling in its last breaths
witnessing wildflowers wave to the wind
refusing to wilt;
each rejection fortifying their resolve
to live and love

~~~

For #SatLines and #ArielPoets. Inspired by ‘a little light is filtering from the water flower’ (Sylvia Plath).

© annie scribes 2017
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she stood me up (again)

tonight the moon stood me up again
crouched somewhere as darkness grew
I spent hours waiting in vain

did she think I had something to gain
slivers of light reminded me of you–
tonight the moon stood me up again

these bold emotions I do feign
she was to tell me which one is true
I spent hours waiting in vain

damn these colors that look like pain
shadows dancing in darkness too
tonight the moon stood me up again

this is crazy, I told her, we are insane
falling again, never learning, we never do
I spent hours waiting in vain

sunset hues on yesterday’s lane
painting you in shades anew–
tonight the moon stood me up again
I spent hours waiting in vain

~~~

A Villanelle.

© annie scribes 2017
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moonbathing

Moon drawing
mere mortals and all their flaws
reach out to the moon
silently soaking up her goodness
even if for just one night,
bathing in her light—
for once feeling stillness
seeping in

~~~

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved

agreeing with Ed

recently Ed has been telling me
of December clouds and promises
(I nod my head in agreement)

raindrops seem to come more often
gray dawn sees me burrowing
into remnants of night’s warmth
cruising into morning

maybe the last full moon of the year
two nights away
has the answer to our question
maybe its light can ease
the pain

~~~

Disclaimer: I don’t have copyrights to the video/song in the link.

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved