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Full smoky moonAn omen or a beacon
I look for signs.
Umber, then amber,
Obscurely glowing among oak-twists
Of an earth-black lattice.
Omen
Orange, then saffron,
Ornately cloud-laced, come out!
Beacon
A smile, a face, a glee
Laughingly peeking
Over fingers of mist.
Longingly drawing, Beckoning a draught
From my lips, but only
An unstoppable
Well-drink
Through sorrowing eyes.
Beacon hold me Armless, handless, graspless,
I cannot recall wanting so much.
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"Serendipity" was coined on this day, in 1754. It is defined as the phenomenon of finding valuable things not sought for. Read about it HERE This blog, and the fellow writers and readers are serendipitous for me.
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Photo: Google Images, mellow sunsets, hunter's moon.
i can feel that longing in how you describe the moments...wonderfully visual and felt.
ReplyDeleteRichly atmospheric.
ReplyDeleteOh! This was beautiful. "Fingers of mist" is amazing. Ya done good, dear one.
ReplyDeletehi Dianne, you have a lovely site here... its a good read, with some excellent links... I agree with Bill on this one - your poem is richly atmospheric
ReplyDeleteI love the visual images here - very sensory, very nice!
ReplyDelete__Ahh... the lucky-ness of finding invaluable things by not looking for them; doesn't something serendipitus occur each day?
ReplyDelete__Love this, each triplet... its own impact. _m