"Even a man who is pure at heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the Autumn moon is bright." - The Wolfman
A dappling of clouds
Cover a full moon.
A glowing crystal ball
Against a midnight blue tapestry,
Its luminous light casts shadows
Creating a dim haze that
Rings the gathering clouds.
Drawn to itself
The clouds swirl
And attempt to block
the blinding light
of the mysterious full moon.
Yet the power that pulls tides
Shines through a gossamer veil of soft gray.
Haunting my dreams
And soothing my nightmares.
I am pulled by the moon
Its eery light reflected in my eyes
A howl escapes my lips
Breaking the stillness of the night.
A primal part of me stirs
A chill runs down my spine.
The smell of smoke and rain
Come whispering through the pine.
The moon's hold never wavers
It beckons me deeper into its face
Helpless as I am pulled ever closer
Into its ghostly haze.
Entranced by its siren song
I gape at beauty fair
The blackness of night closes in
Yet without fear, I sit and stare.
A haunting melody drifts
The world around me blurs
Lulled by sudden silence
The moon takes me as hers.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Poems
PoetryI don't know yet exactly what I'm meant to do. Whether I'm meant to write novels or poems, or whether I'm supposed to draw and tell stories through pictures. Sometimes I think maybe it's both. Maybe I'm supposed to teach History to young children. A...
