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Posts Tagged ‘moon’

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun,
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son,
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful time,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make them solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou are a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, not care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower –
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum –
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!

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The desert
And the distant moon –
Both are bleak.

— 

One silver
And the other red –
Still the same.

— 

All alone
They speak, each to each,
As brethren.

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photo by Cristiano Galbiati at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/meLsRbe/Desert%27s+moon

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

 

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I See

A soft bed,
For the treasured moon,
Cotton balls.

 

And I See

Lying down,
Playing with a coin,
A puppy.

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photo by Manu Mohan at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mgF4xBq/Moon

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

 

 

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Sonnet 47 – What Drove Them On?

What drove Columbus and Magellan out
From harbors safe to test the waters wide?
Each stood upon the shore, none else about
And wondered what the maddening line might hide.

What spurred men on to leave this pleasant place
To sit atop a flame to reach the moon?
For centuries we wondered ‘bout that face –
What lies behind la Mona Lisa lune?

From beds of ease, men went to jungle’s trees,
That closed behind and left them to contend
With foes and beasts and heat and dread disease.
And why? – What lies beyond the river’s bend?

The urge to search comes when one cannot see
And’s coupled with a curiosity.

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photo by RW Lindner at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mC5YTEq/Cave

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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           The Star Of The Night

A cloudy curtain’s drawn across the skies,
As thin as veil that hides a maiden’s eyes;
A milky cataract that dims the sight
Not of the moon, but mine into the night. 

That gown of gossamer lessens the glow
That moon and Milky Way will most nights show.
And blacker is the blackness now by far
So passing firefly is its brightest star.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

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Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws and a silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

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