Under the moon

I feel serenely alive

as its quiet presence

infuses my soul,

while its gentle waves

of liquid silver

purify the night.

Translucence of eyes

speaks to my soul,

a poem of light

curves of my need,

quiet grace

coy smiles and glances,

simmering lips

dew kissed morn.

Echoes

of butterscotch moon

I see you

dazzling star night.

Your flame kindles

my burning desire

intrigue arousing

strength of my loins.

Perfume engraved

permeating my mind,

gleaming ebony hair

your sensual disguise.

Drawn to your words,

hearing paradise,

needing to devour

splinters of time.

Soft caresses

lost in longing,

engraved in the heart

of deep shallow wells.

Quenching my thirst

pools of emotion,

cradled in enveloping peace,

overcome with shivers

when I hear your name.

In the wee hours

the witching hours

the city still buzzing

the traffic still whizzing

Quiet is a memory

of silver moon

crescent

and star lit harmony

The curtains billow

the wind's hand

stirring, night's

Coolness blurring

the day's angry

blurting

And the moon winks

as he sinks

another hour passes

pearlescent gleam

touching each window

seen in the city's

canyons and chasms

The metropolis

pulses, quiet gathers

the magic hour

between moonset

and alarm's set

to rouse the giant

who never slept

Give me the mystery of shadows and stillness. In the night’s quiet, I can be life and death itself, naked and free. Here I’m nothing but an illuminated silhouette dancing against the backdrop of the changing moon, crying and laughing all in one breath.

Will you walk with me here, my bright, sweet Sun King? Be by my majestic side in the velvet quiet of night, and hold my hand, and my heart in your golden grip. Let me show you who I am under the silver light of the moon.

In the quiet of night

under the moon light

away from the city

it is sure pretty

to see all the stars

not hear the cars

just get away

reflect on the day

in the willows i find

swaying softly, side to side

the barest hint of shadow

outlined in moonlight.

it sings a tune as it swings -

a crooning, quiet melody

witnessed by me and that great,

lonely silver eye.

where the moon, she weeps in starlight -

her blanket of night gives out

a thick, hollowing sob, and

wind catches like air in the lungs.

i am, broken like glass -

my heart left a long, bloody path

as i stare at that bending branch.

grief rises like the tide and i

can't help but sing along.

The moon shone bright

On this quiet winter night

It was cold and breezy

But then I saw your figure standing there in the dark

Sitting on a swing in the park

I decided to walk over to you

I asked you if you were cold

You said no but I could tell you really were,

So I wrapped my jacket around you anyways

We sat there for hours

Talking about anything and everything

Our feelings, our stories, our favorite foods

It was like a dream come true

And I'm pretty sure that's when I really knew,

That I loved you

And because of that quiet winter night,

We became something beautiful

Like the stars in the night sky.

the moon shone lightly down on their faces, hands entwined, and bodies close, wishing to be closer. their conversation dwindled, and soon she found herself longing for a quiet place where they could talk more deeply, and he thought the same, yet both were too afraid to speak. for they both longed intimacy-but not of the kind that was 1 a.m. at night, sneakily wandering into a house and linking bodies closer. no, they wanted a deeper connection-she wanted to know his soul. the deep dark depths of his mind where nobody else had been....he wanted to give her the dark depths. and they learned the beauty of a soul.

They listen, the quiet room almost oppressive in its darkness. They wait, breath fogging in front of their mouth, stuttering slightly from the cold. Soon it won’t be cold any longer, this night one they dread every month because it means being locked in this room.

On the far wall is a window, high up under the ceiling, the moon shining her light between the bars. They take a deep breath, steeling themselves for what’s to come. Oh how they wish to be free, the break out of this room and run!

They change, the animal inside tearing through the restraints of their body to howl forlornly to the empty room. One day they will be free, one day they will feel the dirt beneath their paws. Tonight all they feel is cold concrete, the darkness keeping them shrouded, hidden away from the world outside.

Its so lonely.

I incline my head,

the breeze tickling my throat.

My fingers dance across the park bench,

catching on brambles in the wood.

I listen to the whisper and whine,

The screams and shouts of the City.

There are people dancing and singing.

The moon kissing their shoulders,

shining it’s gratitude.

The buildings twinkle in the night,

as if in response.

A dog barks across the street,

his tail wags and twirls beneath his feet.

I close my eyes,

the sounds washing over me as a wave.

The City is nothing but loud and boisterous,

but to me the sound calms.

The quiet of the City is nothing at all.

Rather the quiet of the City is a symphony,

a symphony of lives coming together,

each a different key.