Seven songs for the moon – NaPoWriMo 6

I
I watched a
thistledown child
glide through a
fairground, silver
balloon bobbing
obedient behind her

***

II
He comes round here,
hammering down the door
arse hanging out of his trousers
pissed again, and babbling
about wolves.

***

III
A single blossom,
White, in her
Midnight-tangled hair

***

IV
We set out across the Sea of Tranquillity,
In a silver boat, and our nacreous oars
Left a milky wake. We were lulled into dreams
filled with white water lilies.

***

V
It is a Well Attested Fact
That the Great Belly of the Moon
Brings forth Snakes and Worms
And other Noxious Creatures.

***

VI
The moon sings her slow song,
Teaching the sea to dance,
Always a little out of step
With the sun. And why not?

***

VII
Harvest nights,
Golden moon,
Secret sweetness
In the apple,
Golden carpet
In the field,
Golden kisses
In the night.

***

More moons…

Plump grandmother moon
Light your lamp
Lead me through the dark

Skinny sister moon
Take my hand
Whisper dreams to me

Silver mother moon
Wolf call, owl
Cry, your lullaby.

Lunes – syllable count 5-3-5 – seem appropriate here.
Grace is overseeing dVerse and a series of moon inspired offerings…if you can find your way there this dark night…

Three moons – a trilune for Jane Dougherty

Three coins lay in the palm of my hand.

What to spend them on? First, on your thoughts,

Your hopes, your dreams. It seemed a fair price.

Second, on a great white horse, still running,

The night clouds parting before its hooves,

As it makes its own path through the skies.

Third, on the gleaming ghost of a kiss,

Fragile, hung on a fine silver chain,

What’s left in the grate, when the fire dies.

Poetry challenge #39 – Sleep walker – for Jane Dougherty.

The watcher says

Darling,
Don’t go outside
Under the crazy moon,
Stay here with me, be warm, be soft,
Be still.

 

The walker says

Moonshine
Always calls me
Lifts me above the world
To dance among the stars until
The dawn

 

The moon says

Take my
Cool hands, and dance
With me, my witch child, dance
An endless paso doble through
The night.
This is a cinquain, which is a pattern of syllables : 2, 4, 6, 8, 2. Jane Dougherty has given us another lovely prompt. You can find it here.

And as it’s such a tiny form, I feel justified in putting up a cinquain butterfly, completely off prompt:

One shot
Sounds around us
But it is not as loud
As the beating blood of our hearts.
Our love
Must be braver than a gun shot,
Our hearts keep open wide
Our hands reach out
To touch.