Archive for moon

Here Comes the Sun

Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems with tags , , , , , on December 13, 2013 by Myra's Circle

Here comes the sun,
Razing down the sky,
Touching the Earth,
It’s hand now gentle.

Here comes the sun,
Peeking past mountains,
Through the tendrils of time,
And in branches of trees.

Here comes the sun,
Battling the moon,
For every glory,
That the Earth owns.

Here comes the sun,
the light on our faces,
The longest joy, and yet,
Our darkest heart.

Here comes the sun,
Blasting the heavens,
With golden strings of light,
As it blesses the dreamers.

Heavens Above

Posted in Hopeful Poems, Nature Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , on October 23, 2013 by Myra's Circle

What happens to the sun,
When it falls every night?
Like an angel from Heaven,
When the moon takes flight?

What happens to the stars,
When the sun chases them away?
Where do they run to,
By night or by day?

What happens to the moon,
That sinks into sunrise?
Does it drown every morning,
 Before God’s eyes?

The Stars, the Moon, the Sun, and YOU

Posted in Angry Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , on May 18, 2013 by Myra's Circle

You look at the stars and wonder where the times went,
When love and happiness were no mere dissent,
When you were for once a glad soul,
And your sanity was no longer on hold.

You stare at the moon, at all of it’s holes,
And remember that that’s what makes it’s full soul,
That yours will soon, of all, be complete,
And then you’ll be going again with all the speed of fleet.

No more will the stars and the moon,
Have what you want, so near and so soon,
You, you shall be happy again,
And when you should be happy, my friend, that’s when,

The stars and the moon will lose their own glimmer,
The sun so bright, will forget how to shimmer,
And you will shine, as a light so bright,
And you might be happy again, oh how you might.

God’s Toy

Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 20, 2013 by Myra's Circle

You are my dream,

You are dead and alive,

In the moon’s faithful beam,

In the sun’s careless stride.

You are my light,

In the darkness prevailed,

In the bird that takes flight,

Under the clouds’ gentle veil.

You are my darkness,

When light’s not enough,

All my distress,

When things get too tough.

You are my smile,

When I have but none,

Just for that while,

When me, they all shun.

You are my life,

My care and joy,

You protect me from strife,

You are God’s little toy.

Shoot Higher, Dream Bigger

Posted in Happy Poems, Hopeful Poems, Nature Poems, Poems with tags , , , , , , on February 4, 2013 by Myra's Circle

You shoot for the lights, you say?

For your name to be out there?

To be known, by all?

No.

Shoot higher.

You shoot for the sky, you say?

To reach your goals,

To be all you ever wanted to be?

Or even more?

No.

Shoot higher.

You shoot for the stars, you say?

For your name to be engraved in them?

For wealth and good fortune?

To be awesome?

No.

Shoot higher.

Shoot higher even than the moon itself,

Higher than that.

Think big.

Dream on.

Dreaming happens when the moon is higher than high.

Aim for that.

You might be surprised,

Where you end up.

An Escape

Posted in Sad Stories, Stories, True Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2012 by Myra's Circle

I wondered, staring up at the moon like this, if my life would ever be as full as that shining rock in the sky.  It’s light cast pale shadows over my backyard, and I stared out at the scene in front of me.  I came out here a lot; whenever I felt sad, or lonely, or misunderstood.  I had just had an argument with my mother and lost, and my mind seemed to be racing away from me.  Though it was quite late, the full moon brightened the dark, weary sky and made it look to be about seven o’clock.  I sighed, and shifted, when I heard someone in the room behind me.  No one knew that I came out here, and I preferred to keep it that way.  For me it was a place to escape to, where nothing else existed but me.  I guess it’s kind of selfish of me to think like that, but it always made me feel better.  I think I just need the fresh air.  I gulped some of it in, then, breathing in the scent of night.  Night smells teasingly of a new day about to start, but is not quite there yet.  They say that night is for the madmen, and the poets.  Maybe I am both?  I am not sure.  Sometimes I feel a little mad.  I hear voices in my head teasing me, but I know that those voices are just mine, encouraging me, egging me on.  I sat there, unsure, for ten minutes, twenty, until I finally fell asleep to night’s sweet lullaby.

Tired Bliss

Posted in Poems, Sad Poems with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2012 by Myra's Circle

My thoughts slow,

As slow as they go,

My body won’t react fast,

Somehow I’m always last,

But don’t cure me of this sure feeling of bliss,

This feeling that I’ll definitely miss.

My eyes will close soon,

Like the moon,

I love this feeling,

That my mind has reeling,

Of pure tired bliss.