The crickets sing their song in perfect harmony
And wake me far too slowly.
When the window rises, the cold air flies in
And caresses me all over,
So happy
To see me
Again.
And the grass parts for my bare feet
And the stars light the way through the trees
And the moon brings the sea up onto the shore
And the wind pushes me along
And it doesn't matter where I go.
As long as I'm running
And dancing
And positively burning
And I get back while the moon is still smiling,
Before the sun rises to out-burn me.
Author notes
I have nothing to say about this piece.
A contest entry
- burn beneath the moon by Pamela A Lamppa.
1000 points, ended November 26, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
.
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Indeed this is a fiery night. I could feel you getting caught up in the moment and the imagery. Thank you for a lovely entry. Best of luck. ~Pamela
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I really did get wrapped up in this, so I'm glad it came out the way I was picturing it. I would have been so disappointed if it was a failure. Thank you for your consideration. Blah, formality
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this was an amazing read. this is different, and i like it, keep it flowing and good luck in the contest .
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Different? Of course, I always am ^.^ Thanks, Prod. Your comments are always uplifting.
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This seems quite different emotionally from much of your other work. Not better or worse, just different.
I really like it.
So I suppose in that respect it isn't so different.
Blessings,
C
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I haven't snuck out in a long time. There's something about being unsupervised on a freezing night that lights my veins on fire.
As long as you like it, that's all that matters, right?
Just kidding.
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