I walk,
I walk alone,
along the footpath,
as the stars shine down,
and the moon glistens.
The wind is cold,
I pull my clothes tighter around my body,
my teeth chatter,
but it is worth it,
for where I'm going.
I see the tree,
and the clearing,
where the sky is clearer than crystal,
the night is quiet,
crickets chirp slightly,
making me feel welcome.
I sit underneath the shield of leaves,
watching to see shooting stars,
the grass is damp,
the tree roots are strong,
all is calm.
To sit here,
and to take in the beauty,
of the aesthetic atmosphere,
feels as though,
I have been pulled into a song,
not a song that excites me,
nor one that saddens me,
a song full of calm,
a song full of curiosity,
a song worth listening too,
a song probably titled "My Moonlight Canopy."
15/3/2021.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryOriginal poetry! "A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." -W.H Auden.
