Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Love Wanes

 
Love Wanes
 
Affection rings my ears,
signals loud through
my confusion and fears.
 
Do I see two or one?
She, a moon,
less my shining sun.
 
The sky, the sun, the heat,
once in her
they came to meet.
 
Her land's grown cold,
days flow short,
a season to unfold.
 
Craving life, my soul,
she grows dim,
exacts her toll.
 
A shroud of dark is night,
gives no warmth,
no stream of light.
 
She spins in her cloak,
I ask to hear
a word once spoke.
 
Her lips tremble light,
no sound is heard,
she's gone in flight.
 
Our word cannot be said,
lives no more,
its life has bled.
 
Silence utters her mute fact,
the moon wanes,
she's a darkened pact.
 
 
©Eusebeia Philos 2013
 


14 comments:

  1. this ends quite sad...out word has waned like the moon...bled...alive no more...this goes high to low really nicely...

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  2. Lovely poetic form. The moon is such an inspiration to so many poets. You've done well to personify her.

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    1. Thank you. I appreciate your notes on my poem.

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  3. You have captured so well the waning of the moon and the emotions connected with it!

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  4. I like the personification of the waning moon ~ Such sadness here, very well penned ~

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    1. Thank you. I appreciate your comments, Grace.

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  5. I'd like to read what you have to write about a waxing moon as well ..this is a keeper ;)

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    1. Thanks, Katy. That will be the next inspiration.

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  6. Oh so beautifully sad. I saw the sun fading to become the moon. Gorgeous.

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    1. Thanks, Beth, for sharing what you saw.

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  7. you formed and shaped this as a written sculpture, Chris http://velvetmedia.wordpress.com/

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