My Poem “The Harvest Moon”

The Harvest Moon
shone high in the morning sky…
The Harvest Moon shined so bright
I became entranced by its light…
The Harvest Moon
hung huge and breathtaking
against the blue of the clear air above…
The Harvest Moon –
the coming of a new season
and a beacon of natural beauty,
and as awe-inspiring and as white as a dove…
The Harvest Moon
captured my attention, sparked my imagination,
and filled my vision that twilight October day…
The Harvest Moon is a sign
that winter is on the way…
The Harvest Moon has long been used by early-risers
as a torch to guide them in whatever they do…
The Harvest Moon, to me,
is an amazing celestial event
and an inspiring sight to see –
and I hope that it is not too long before
I get to see another beautiful Harvest Moon.

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My Poem ‘The Afternoon Moon’

The ghostly image of the moon
still hangs in the sky
when the clock strikes noon –
and even two hours later
the moon is still there
in a cloudless sky
as blue, as beautiful, and as clear
as the world as seen through a tear…
the moon is on my left,
the sun is on my right…
the country air smells fresh…
the green fields below me
glow so bright under the sunlight,
and just being where I am
and seeing what I do feels so nice…
for the next three days,
at the same time of the day,
the moon lingered in the daylight sky –
one side covered in shadow,
and the other side a misty-white –
and every time I see it
I smile and I wonder
why I could see it so clearly,
even though it wasn’t night…
being an eternal-optimist
and a hopeful-romantic,
I saw the appearance of the moon
in the afternoon
as a sign of dreams coming true
and of good things on the horizon…
only time will tell what the moon
being out so early, or so late, means –
perhaps it does not mean
anything of importance at all…
however, I believe that things happen for a reason…
I believe that the universe gives us what we ask for…
I do not need to see the Earth spinning in space
to know that the world is always on the move…
I believe new things reveal themselves
during the changing of the seasons…
I believe every new day is a new door…
I believe there is a purpose
for every-thing and every-one…
just as I believe that I have been seeing
a sign of something every day
that I have looked up at the sky
in the afternoon and I have seen the moon.

My Poem ‘The Bright Side’

There is no such thing
as total-darkness;
there will always be
those who have more
and those who have less;
in a dark-blue sky
there is nothing like
the pure white light
of the moon’s crescent
to fill you with awe
and relieve you of any stress.

When the sun rises after a long night,
when the moon appears like a ghost in the sky,
when dawn calls, when dusk falls,
when ocean-waters become a mirror,
when candle wicks burn
and their flames flicker,
when eyes open, when eyes close,
when the world of the day has awoken,
when the aroma of the air
is as distinctive as the smell
after a thunderstorm
or as unmistakable
as the pungency of burnt-toast.

With the first observance of fire
followed a basic understanding
of the human heart,
and what lies and burns
at the core of every living thing;
when humanity first saw lightning,
it must have automatically
occurred to our ancestors
that it must be the energy
and the work of the gods
who dwelled in the sky above;
when the first language of expressions
and signs was first devised
and replicated over and over again,
it must have been phenomenally exciting;
when the first heart ached for another,
that was when humanity first discovered
one of the greatest forces in the universe –
the power of love.

Most people, and most things,
do not get a choice about how and when
their story will come to an end –
every sunset, every sunrise,
could be someone’s last;
over time truly is how and when
you find out who are your true family and friends –
and every day that comes and goes,
and who it is that you see
when you look around yourself,
is when and how you find out
who is your eternal star and sunshine –
and they who will always be the one
to show you life’s
ever-present bright side.

My Poem ‘My Rock, My Star’

You think that I am brilliant;
I think that you are amazing;
you tell me that I am the one that you want;
I tell you that to me you are will always be beautiful,
and every day I cannot get enough
of looking at your gorgeous face
and staring at your dazzling eyes
that to me are constantly sparkling.

I want you to know
that you are my only one;
you want me to know
that you will always love me beyond words;
I need you to know that you are my sun;
you need me to know that I am the only man
in the entire world who you love.

We talk all the time;
we see each other every day;
we think about each other morning, noon, and night;
we are meant to be together
and what we both mean to each other we can only say.

I tell you that I will love you forever;
you tell me that you will always be there for me
and you will never leave me no matter what;
I tell you that we will always be together;
you tell me that there is nothing
that you would not do for me,
and you have always said to me
that you would love me
even if either of us had no money
and if we both had to sleep every night
in a blue and green painted cardboard box.

We two are music lovers;
we two love each other;
we two have never been happier than when we are together;
we two are each others life-saver.

My moon, my gravity,
my fortune, my destiny,
my heart, my soul,
my first, my last,
my universe, my heavenly angel,
my diamond, my gold,
my train of thought,
my eternal compass to know who I am,
my inspiration and muse
who believes in me so much
and who wants me to never give up
or ever stop writing
and leaving my poetic marks;
my breathtaking and life-defining rock,
who rocks my world…
my sunshine, my beautiful star.

My Poem ‘Wanderlust’

I am a ‘wanderbird’,
I am a traveler;
when I look up at the moon,
and I see it split in-two –
one side as white and beautiful
as the colour of snow,
and the other side of the moon
obscured by shadow –
I imagine a writer, or an artist,
in the future on the surface of the moon
looking back at the Earth,
trying to capture its magnificent beauty
in photography, in a painting,
or in a verse of poetry;
and I wonder what a poetic astronaut
would think about themselves, where they are,
and what the sacred home of the human race means.

Whenever I have looked up at the moon,
I have never been able to stop myself
from wishing that I were there;
if someone were to offer me
a ticket to the moon,
so that I could look back with love
at our beautiful blue marble,
I would suit-up,
and be in the cockpit of the rocket like a shot!

I am an explorer,
I always have been – even if it were only
imagined journeys that I embarked upon,
every expedition was one that I was excited about,
and nothing was going to stop me;
I have always been a great navigator –
I have always been able to find my way
to where I wanted to go,
and even from a young age
I understood there where you are going
is not the important part:
the thing that makes you who you are is the journey.

Looking at the stars
has always made me want to travel between them
and see interstellar sights
that would defy explanation, or description;
the sky, the heavens, the galaxy, the universe,
is where my head has always been –
because, above the clouds and on other worlds,
to me that is where adventure awaits;
the thought of what lies in the dark
has always filled me with fascination;
the future of humanity
is something that I care about,
and where we are all going as a planet
is something that I think a lot about.

The Earth is special;
our world is the only one we have;
no matter how many planets we discover,
nor where our star treks take us,
the planet we live on will always be
the most wonderful and beautiful,
and the life that is unique
and can only be found
on this blue and green sphere
will always be the end of our celestial path.

There is more to the universe than we know;
there is more to life to be learned
than can be taught in a rush;
there are things that are universally important
to remember, no matter who you are or where you go;
there is a word to describe people like me
who live every day with an impulse in their heart
and a love for life like no other:
I am constantly in a state of unbelievable
‘Wanderlust’.

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My Poem ‘Sputnik’

It’s six o’clock at night,
on a cool spring evening,
and I am looking out my window to the sky
at a beautiful gold and blue light,
watching the sun setting –
and the sight of it takes my breath away;
and within seconds,
I watch the sky go from red to grey,
as all that I see becomes draped
in the dark veil of twilight.

I watch the stars appear;
I see the planets rise;
I see the ultimate display of the constellations,
and I name them one by one, as I imagine them;
and then, when I see the constellation of Orion,
I am awestruck by how wonderfully its stars
shine so clear, and my entire vision
is that of an infinite number of stars in my eyes.

I spent my day taking in nature,
listening to the world around me,
being captivated by birdsong,
and watching the building of bird-nests
in the branches of the trees above,
and in the hedges of the ground below;
I spent my day believing that I knew
all in life that I could ever need to know.

Right this second, I feel like a satellite;
right at this moment, I feel like I am alone in space,
and no one even knows I am here –
because I am just a faint moving white dot in the dark sky;
right now, I feel so far away –
like a distant flickering candle
in the window of a cottage atop a hill;
and barely noticeable –
like a star of the night;
now, I look down,
and around at everyone else on Earth,
and I see what I can of their lives:
I see true happiness,
and I wonder what that feels like.

I look up at the moon;
I gaze up at the stars;
I see the heavens –
the place from where we all came from,
and I dream that I may return there soon;
I imagine that I can reach up and touch the sky,
because in the dark the void of space
does not seem that far.

Every human being has looked above
on a star-lit night, and wondered:
are we alone in the universe?
And, is anybody else out there?
I have asked myself that very question,
and I know the definitive answer –
and I speak that answer aloud every night.

Everybody sometimes goes into their own
“hibernation mode”, in which they appear
to leave their worries in another place somewhere;
I have always found it difficult
to remove myself from the world,
and not think about what is always on my mind;
some days I wish I could be a living, breathing,
astronaut floating in space –
or a part of Earth, circling the planet,
like the very first satellite: Sputnik.

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My Poem ‘Penumbra’

The moment that you see the sun
darkened and obscured in any way,
takes your breath away;
the instant that the daylight fades,
your heart truly begins to race;
as the moon passes in front the sun,
the world feels colder,
the time seems later,
and everyone stops what they are doing,
because something wonderful, magical,
and undoubtedly celestial,
is about to happen.

Watching an eclipse is a special event
that everybody in their life
should hope to be witness to –
even if it only happens once,
and even if you only see it once;
being there on a clear day,
when one minute the sun is shining brightly,
and the next it is shrouded in darkness,
is something that you never forget –
because it isn’t every day
that you get to see
the celestial bodies of the universe
show the perfect timing and synchronicity
of their orbital gravity dance.

Those of us who are Earth-bound
rarely get to be at the centre of,
or be in the path of,
something profound that captivates us and reminds us
that we are a part of something bigger
than we can see, feel, be amazed by,
but can’t touch –
however, we can be touched by them;
seeing the spectacular colours of a mesmerizing aurora;
watching a total-eclipse,
or a partial-eclipse, of the sun –
everybody, anybody, everywhere, anywhere,
on the day of an eclipse,
can be left stunned, ensorcelled,
mesmerized, and humbled,
while standing in the shadow of a penumbra.