Harvest moon hanging high
Watching us Gods ancient eye
Poets write you distant cold
While i observe your core
Behold i see a heart of gold
You sail the sky as lovers walk
Sharing in their sweet love talk
Why do we name you cold and pale
You colour every lovers tale
While young men are growing old
They are jealous of you orb of gold
You light the path young lovers stray
as their bones molder in the clay
You light the path young lovers stray as their bones molder in the clay my fav lines from this wonderful poem.
Beautifully crafted, with nice rhyme...very nice to read.
anothar one i've read and commented on in the past, but (unless the poem has been changed since last year) i'm shocked that i didn't point out some things i see in it now. guess i'll send a message about it. :) bri
You make magic with your perception of the moon as yellow/golden instead of white/silver. In just three stanzas you both alter and affirm the moon of our long imagination. You affirm its presence in the nocturnal aspects of human life - lovers, time, death even - but also alter aspects of it, with the ageing men feeling bereft and jealous of the young - but I think if they really soaked in that golden light they would be reconciled to ageing and rejoice in the happiness of the young! It's only natural that the moon's changes alerts us to ageing and offers consolation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Noreen...i read it perfectly on time..its full moon now...its beautiful! , and your poem too :) .. Today i saw some chinese kids playing with beautiful lantern...(its night here now) , really it so cool to combine what i have seen today to in your poem..lovely_Soul