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| Courtesy of Pixabay |
What magical power draws me towards the light
I ponder the magnetic attraction of the full moon
drinking intoxicating potion from a lunar saloon
partial eclipse, shadows, a sky-watchers delight
In the corners of my mind, I believed in love
wandering lost, looking for an evening escape
you were a story I found in the dreamscape
a partial eclipse of the heart, pieces of love
I think the night is where poetry is created
soaring the heavens trying to touch the stars
it is where lonely dreamers write memoirs
where words don’t need to be translated
wishing under a full moon seems antiquated
how to change the story that once was us
perhaps, just let it rest in the comic dust
from beginning to end it seemed ill-fated
written for dVerse
hosted by Kim
The poem I would like you write is about the end of something: the end of a season, a relationship, a story, a letter, a journey, a dream, a life, the world, etc
I am not sure which ending it best describes per the prompt.
author's note: I sat outside and watched the partial eclipse last night - I have some photos but, the partial was hard to capture but, I did get that glorious harvest moon.
"A partial eclipse of the heart" - a wonderful description. It is hard to lose a magical love. I like "perhaps just let it rest in the cosmic dust".
ReplyDeleteYour poem is so dreamy, Truedessa, and moves at a lovely slow pace. The partial eclipse is the end of a period of time, and your ending seems to be about the end of a relationship, hence the change of tone at the end. I love that your opening stanza is based on real experience, with an otherworldly hint in ’magical power’. I love the lines: ‘you were a story I found in the dreamscape’.
ReplyDeleteObviously that partial eclipse really inspired you. Yes, very dream-like.
ReplyDeleteLove the nod to Bonnie Tyler's song of a total eclipse of the heart.
ReplyDeleteA very well written poem, Truedessa. It is interesting to me that that big lifeless chunk of rock has such romantic affects on people.
ReplyDeleteSaw that magical full moon this early morning. Love the angst and wish for happier times. The moon is our poet's muse.
ReplyDeleteYour beautiful poem reveals how the full moon stirs our longings!
ReplyDeleteTruedessa, I love "drinking intoxicating potion from a lunar saloon"
ReplyDeleteA celebration of endings in this end-of-season harvest moon, crisp with failure and yearning, especially here:
ReplyDeleteI think the night is where poetry is created
soaring the heavens trying to touch the stars
it is where lonely dreamers write memoirs
where words don’t need to be translated
For me its why dreams and poetry are faces from both sides of a lucent mirror ...