“moon rises”

Written for:  The Twiglets #224 - moon rises

When a pink moon
rises, earth is a rose.

Stars shimmer silver
at moon's rise.

he lies on his back
in the glow of full moon light
counting the stars

         There once was a legend about a man.
         He was ever kind and meek as a lamb.
             But when a bad moon rose,
             from his head to his toes,
         he sprouted hair, howled, and people ran.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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6 Responses to “moon rises”

  1. Misky says:

    These are just wonderful. Particularly love that first one.


  2. Jules says:

    Love the word play.
    Howling good reads!


  3. Ron. says:

    Awesome works. Esp love the stargazer bit. Salute.


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