The Moon-man and His Love

Did you know that Thursday has a new name? Wikem-day; see definition here.

 The Moon's gravitational influence produces the ocean tides and the slight lengthening of the day. Wikipedia

The lights along the boulevard poke holes into the dark

A diamond parasol covers slight lengthening of day

Where shape of Time is lithe and lean and slipping silver-gray

Into deep blue adieu where new adventurers embark

The beck and calling-rise and falling-holding-letting go

Reaches like quiet shadows to a place beneath Her skin

She hears upon a sentimental solitude within  

Echoes, like lagging sea-song on a garden white with snow

The moon-man does not smile, still, still his solemn comradeship

Touches a chord; a duet borne of love and loneliness

Ignites a strange homesickness for a nameless happiness

Where he and she are worlds apart yet dancing lip to lip

The moon-man murmurs ‘darling’ and the moon-man murmurs ‘dear’

She wonders if his stone-face hurts with tears he cannot weep

Because she cannot promise what she knows she cannot keep

And so she nods; Time knows that soon they both will disappear

© Janet Martin

Since it is a moon prompt and the season for love I can't resist adding this song...

Sound of Midnight~

Sound of midnight fills the sky

Satin-opaque lullaby

Wind-song, vagrant and footloose

Slipping from moon-spangled noose

To ramble night’s argent hall

Spreading silence like a shawl

Save for sighing evergreen

Waving its four-season sheen

As fresh moments fall away

Jetty on ebony quay

Smooth and still its sonnets spill

Moon-halo, opiate trill

Tempest torn from its rampart

Waging, raging in the heart

And the air, tattooed with dark

Petrifies the snowflake spark

Amplifying somber hush

As a thousand echoes rush

Where sound of midnight fills the deep

And we would miss if fast asleep

J~

Come Morning Light

The night is empty

Save for the swoon

Of shadow and silver

Beneath the full moon

I should be dreaming

Tucked warm in my bed

But I choose the high noon

Of midnight instead

Fantasy swirls

Like the steam from my cup

Women become girls

When the moon is up

Infinitely gentle

The hands of the night

And I’ll be a woman

Come morning light

© Janet Martin

Above this Maddened Wheeling and Dealing...

 Poetics Aside Prompt:  Wheels (of any kind) Poem

Above this maddened

Wheeling and dealing

Sighing and crying

Taking and breaking

Of vows

Above time’s perpetual

Turning and yearning

Reeling with feeling

Groping and hoping

Flow

Above this torrent  

Rushing and crushing

Dreaming and scheming

Surreal quadrille

And swoon

God pins His mercy

In a silver sliver

Grace above craze

A gentle mantle

Of crescent moon

© Janet Martin

Man in the Moon

PAD Prompt: Full Moon

Somewhere the air

Holds in its mouth

The words that I would say

I want to be

Brave; vulnerable

But you’re too far way

Tonight the sky

Is full of you

...your iridescent glow

But you are the

Man in the moon

A fantasy, I know

Why is it that

When you are full

I seem so very small

In fact, I touch

My face to see

If I exist at all

J~

Yiruma-Moonlight

Lunar Lover

Tonight I want to allow you to take me

I no longer care to resist

Desire out-weighing my common senses

Wrap me in your body of mist

Tonight I need more than blue-moon endearment

Whispered through my window-pane

I need to mangle the hem of your raiment

 Barter with pleasure and pain

Tonight believing requires touch, seeing

Translucent; you taunt, I beseech

For all I can feel is the sense of your being

Are kisses that I cannot reach

© Janet Martin

Of Moons and other Wonders

 image source:pinterest

PAD Prompt: Full Moon

It does not labor from the skyline like a sluggish beast

But slips above earth’s far elusive brim

A silver circle diadem ascending from the east

To garnish midnight’s muted, maudlin scrim

Since Eden’s birth the sun ignites the lunar lamp of dusk

Beneath its plaintive gaze of centuries

We live and die; earth-creature is but gasp of dust to dust

Sun, moon and stars, celestial deities

Beneath the gleam of astral rendering we plant and plow

The sun rules day, the moon and stars the night

While we of meeker stance must wipe the sweat-drop from the brow

And ponder things like God and death and life

What gracious kindness that Creator God did not declare

The night to be as deep and dark as hell

But breathed above the drop of earth resplendent radiance where

The mouths of men cannot its mystery tell

Thus, he who holds the glorious heavenly bodies in His grip

Knows the unknowns; and He is coming soon

We are not stranded here on some forgotten, drifting ship

To stare in hopeless wonder at the moon

© Janet Martin

Full Moon Haiku

PAD prompt: Full Moon

Beneath orb pallor

the earth is a silver sea

where we drift homeward

***

beneath harvest moon

autumn day has gifted hours

to gather in sheaves

***

beneath heaven’s broach

the spoil of worldly beggars

is putrid plunder

***

mellow misty moon

paints platinum poetry

on onyx ocean

***

silver stepping stone

lover's lone lunar lamplight 

polished perfection

***

gleaming, gentle gaze

probes passionate pondering

without word-wisdom

***

Janet~

Wisteria, Blue Moons and other Loves

September's Song...Mantovani

It is not my intent

To shut you out

Blue moon of half-grin

As you drift to the south

Above silver bracken

And the rushing of time

Teasing the tendrils

Of wisteria vine

I would rather fling wide

The pane I shut tight

For the cricket choir

Is in top form tonight

Where the chill air keens

The lust in its swell

As I sense the presage

Of a season’s farewell

I long to draw you

Through this shield of glass

To keep you warm

As the fleet moments pass

But you must submit

To nature’s stringent pull

The hour will not quit

When its portion is full

…and I must surrender

To resist is vain

As I tug on the window

To keep out the pain

Of the cool night sweeping

Over time-swept plateau

And the throb of its weeping

In gossamer flow

© Janet Martin

Last night I felt like I should apologize as I was forced to close the windows to its beautiful CHILL!.

White Moon Night

The moon is white, it’s half-shut eye

Discharges twilight’s deepened sigh

As incandescent radiance flows  

Across nature’s frigid repose

The beauty of fair summer’s hour

Lies muted in an unborn flower

Its hope which trembles in our breast

Inspires both labor and rest

In rigid stance the raven pine

Enhances the horizon-line

A still-life sketched against the hue

Of moonlight’s argent avenue

We lay aside our humble toil

To scan the tides of moonlit spoil

The grandeur of an ocean stirred

Sweeps our souls without a word

© Janet Martin

I opened my mouth to tell them to look at the beautiful white night…

Then I shut it. Someday they will discover its wonder for the first time,

And marvel at the miracle of it all…