December Dusk
There, just beyond the hillAnd above where the woods
Lean into the lingering light
A pale full moon is dropping
Little leaves of light and shadow
From the bare limbs of oaks.
And now, for just this moment,
The last glints of setting sun
Blush it with a pink aureole,
So close I can almost reach out
And hold it in the cup of my hand
Like a shy beloved's breast.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 399 times
Written on 2010-12-06 at 15:00
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
ngaio Beck |
jenks |
John Ashleigh |