Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

The Moon

The Moon.

The moon her yellow fingers, grasses light,
invisibly pale, white, underfoot a winter crunch,
a cloudless sky, the pastel globe afloat on the
blue moat of our castle home, as she in azure
heavens waked by dawn, a perfect sphere,
this october day, two thousand and eleven.

I know its last years! LuvAnn.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Last few words: 
We, four couples, camped on the 31st October under the full moon in the frost. Blazing fire, with food; after a long walk over the mountain Knutshøy, beside the turquoise glacial lake of Gjende, in the Jotunheimen( not fat from the famous Besseggen.Pergynt-), wonderful stars, it was good to be alive. The camera recorded the greens and purples unbelievable. A.
Editing stage: 

Comments

and the sun was rising with its rays
through the troposphere of weather
we have here

I stood transfixed

Your poem reminds me that
there is more to being
then just being

I want to put "awoke: were your
"waked" is
but it sounds drastically
altered

I like the wake of this

A grand poem
Ann

)and of course I love the moon)

The best way to put it would be "I was awakened by.." n'est pas?

Being and not being are swallowed up in such experiences.

Just as when I did Chi Gong the other day, I drifted from conscious thought
to what I experienced as no thought, and this was backed up by my teacher,
who quoted a monk as saying he too often thought of things while meditating,
but let them be, he considered the swing from the one to the other was a good meditation,
its when one grabs the thought and develops it, that it wasn't.

I described it as like a pendulum of consciousness, swinging in and out.
She was pleased I had a remark,
the others said nothing when asked what the exercise had done for them.

When out in such a place at such a time, under the full moon,
where does one's sense of being crystallise?

Those are moments to store safely and pull out when
in sadder moments of one's life,
they give a brilliance back to our feeling of existence.

All life is a kind of meditation, specially for us who, creating art
from the instigation of our experiences, are extra aware; don't you think Steven?

L Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

I am recalling back to 2004/2003 when I was with my Lori
in the psych ward C-4 or something..the old 1955 building sprawl
on eleven north....she wore her hair on a barrett and I thought her
a churchy girl whom lost her kids....sweet but not something I
was onto ... we had dialogue but she had a buddy and I was
never clear on her marital status...

I was in there so often...sad and yet problematic too

Ones sense of being is here...
in the core build
one year to five they say.

I read tons of books of wolf children etc and kids who
were raised deprived of influence...the brain is flexible
casting lines to all its parts from one to four
and then afterwards the big build is kind of over..
but

the kids in the burger Fries shop were talking about
someone they know who got brain injured and how
the took them off support and they were in the coma
and then they took them off the pain meds for the
damage from the sports injury and they came out
of the coma and are now walking etc...
not ever sad story has a happy ending

such is our minds Loved
immense and incredible

the moon did enamour me
as it does you
the silvery golden !!!streek *!!
along the pathway
down the grassy hill as always
helps me follow the poet in you

*streek .....incorrect word
the one i want to use
escapes me yet!

loved

Sounds lovely except for the cold. I don't do cold well. LOL

Respectfully,
Rett
"If all printers were determined not to print anything till they were sure it would offend nobody, there would be very little printed. " Ben Franklin

A beautiful and wonderful way to spend and celebrate "All Hallows Even". I'm so glad you got some photographs from this event. Lovely poem, my dear!

always, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

Thank you Cat and Rett, I have slides, many, many of them!! About the cold Rett, its beautiful when you are warm, and the crunch means the cold is of a dry nature, which almost doesn't feel like cold, its invigorating, just as I find Autumn the most invigorating time of year. I guess some of us are Nordic, and our whole beings respond favourably to that, while those used to the desert heat, manage that. There is nothing like being out with a canopy of stars above one, in the crisp air, it gives one a thrill.
Yes that camping spree was memorable, the hills/mountains there were rounded, and looked like Christmas puddings with their icing sugar sieved on top. How wonderful it was to cuddle down in one's sleeping bag, just as I love to hear the rain in the same situation, it makes one feel so warm in a good way.
My sister camped in the Kimberley's Australia, for celebration of her 70th birthday; once a camper, always a possible one, her husband wouldn't camp I'm sure. He was even disgusted that people did on his farm long ago, where we did, little knowing that he would marry one of the campers!!! :)

As aye Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

you have made your memory to not only share wirh us (thank you) but to have forever as an icon as good as any photograph (probably better) to remind yourself of the beauty of that night

lovely descriptive
'as she in azure
heavens waked by dawn'

love judyanne
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

And here are you judyanne, you who sense the feelings
behind words and can envisage the scenes of which I write.
I know you do and can, wish I could see the moon from your country,
it would be the same old moon, but she would light a different scene.

Love to you annanya.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

Just popped in to mention that the old man in the moon we know and love here in the Northern Hemisphere, doesn't show his face in Australia.
Moon rabbit. is the one they have there, but one I have heard is the Dutchman, as you should know that as we are all standing on a ball the view of the moon is upside down from the south to the north of the Earth.
As most things we all have a different point of view, I will also mention that the water goes down the plughole in the opposite rotation..Damn the same way but in the opposite direction what more can we wish for. lol
There are lots of silly little things like this due to living on a ball travelling in space..Makes for great poetry!!!!
Take care out there all is not what it appears to be lol,
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

I liked my upside down view of your words Ian, thank you for the comment.
Yes its quite a thought isn't it, living on a ball of fire, how much we feel
put in our place in the proportions, when we think of it.

No its not is it.
Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

To Ann-

I have missed you and hope all is going well. I love the Moon. I really enjoyed reading this. Have missed reading your work Snowlady Ann. Here is my thoughts for you this morning..

I am the drift, a crystal snowflake
this scene outside your window.
I gently appear and land,
melting back to earth.
Transforming once again
Her endless time.

mms 9.10.12

What a lovely thought Mona, just like a snowflake,
they are such magical things aren't they.

Welcome back Mona, I hope I blew a cool breeze
towards you if it is hot, but then I heard it isn't so hot
at the moment, so send you the warmth from a birch l
og fire, its perfumes so lovely in the air as one walks
on the crunch of snow in Winter.

Love Ann.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

Thank you Ann and it has been nice here in the south. We get warm weather one day and cool the next. I love the image of the birch and the crunch of snow. It reminds me of my youth. Those snowy days..

will try to come back and visit again when I am able to. Life is busy at the moment. Love and thoughts to you all.

Magic Mona:)

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.