My Lady Lives In The Moon

At ten p.m. opposite
the misty lake I strode
on my way back towards home
The tranquil waters betray not
a single emotion
the surface a smooth sheet of
glass, unbroken but
beneath lay a torrent of
undercurrents for the tide
was high and the moon was out
And I yearn for the lady in
the moon, where she lives
so faraway and I could
only see her when the moon comes down
once or twice

Pardon me readers, for I know not how to continue with the story. I’m stumped I must admit, lack of flow without and within. My apologies to keep you all waiting…A short piece, another meagre meal for the mass.

Your servant
Aristocrat


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6 thoughts on “My Lady Lives In The Moon

  1. It is beautiful as it is. The poem has a surreal quality to it and certainly takes the reader on a trip to that place and time. Liked it. šŸ™‚

  2. oh, i believe a poem is like a painting. interpretation lies on the one who’s looking.

    and i find this poem a sad longing, probably the reason why the ending seems to be hanging.

    8) and nice to have come across another great poet! add you to my links

  3. How true, it all depends on the reader’s eye. like what Gilbert Koh’s blog is about.

    And yes, it was about a sad longing, and the yearning has never ceased at all.

    I have added you to my links as well, gracias. šŸ™‚

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