Leslie Philibert

Bronze Star - 2,669 Points (6th March 1954 / London, England)

Leslie Philibert Poems

241. A Fox In Snow 8/24/2016
242. The Sea At Night 9/1/2016
243. End Of Summer 9/6/2016
244. Rented Sky 3/13/2015
245. Donegal 3/27/2015
246. Rowan 4/4/2015
247. Genesis In March 2/28/2015
248. The Italian Way To Say Goodbye 6/20/2014
249. Finnish 10/2/2014
250. Altoetting 2/12/2014
251. Triumph-Adler 10/20/2013
252. Poet In A Cage 4/10/2013
253. The Alps At Night 7/21/2013
254. Secretary 9/25/2012
255. Breakfast With Dave - A Satire 5/9/2013
256. The Liverpool-Belfast Ferry 1/1/2013
257. Shelley - The Last Voyage 12/14/2012
258. Maths In The Park (For Marzena) 11/27/2012
259. Poetry Magazines 11/18/2012
260. A Tumult Of Water 7/11/2012
261. Not About You 7/11/2012
262. Escape 7/11/2012
263. Prospero 8/28/2012
264. The Fifth Season 2/10/2013
265. Skinhead 5/14/2013
266. Childhood Beach 6/24/2013
267. Take The Bus, Bob 4/13/2013
268. Lilith 5/11/2013
269. A Small Death 2/22/2015
270. Lightbird 3/8/2015
271. Breathwing (For Sophie Scholl) 1/19/2014
272. Shackleton`s Grave 5/6/2013
273. A Night On A Beach (Translated And Adapted From Heinrich Heine) 12/22/2012
274. Fracking 12/16/2014
275. Table Dance 11/7/2014
276. A Winter Poem 12/21/2014
277. Selfie 1/10/2015
278. Moon Train 12/25/2013
279. A Blind Man Looks At The Sea 1/15/2014
280. A Small Girl Sleeping At Night 8/7/2014
Best Poem of Leslie Philibert

The Night The Moon Got Stolen

In the night the moon got stolen
lunatics shook their fists at empty heavens,
cats stared at holes in the dark night
and seas turned into lakes, tides refused,

And songwriters hit the wrong keys
while lovers went home for an early night,
words were not whispered in ears nor
arms thrown across shoulders in first joy.

Have no fear for this lost face in the sky,
the lady that shimmers over standing water.
Aurora will bring the slow return of dawn,
Libertas will free this stolen moonlight.

Read the full of The Night The Moon Got Stolen

Not About You

Not about the way
you spread your fingers across your mouth,
playing shocked, then laughing.

Not even about your hair, straw.gold,
that moves across your forehard,
a mantle for northern paleness.

(Some lines will now be intentionally deleted,

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