Beneath the night's expansive veil,
The moon unveils her gentle light,
Her whispers float on zephyrs' tails,
A symphony in silver-white.
Each beam a brushstroke on the sky,
She paints the world in tender hues,
With secrets that she can't deny,
She casts her spell, the night imbues.
A lullaby of dreams and sighs,
She sings to stars and lonely hearts,
Her soft caress in darkened skies,
A balm for souls when hope departs.
In slumber's arms, we find release,
While moonbeams dance upon our dreams,
With every whisper, sweetest peace,
In lunar glow, enchantment gleams.
So let the moon's soft serenade,
Embrace your heart, a gentle swoon,
And may her whispers never fade,
As she illumines darkest gloom.
Mr. Poet
About the Creator
Mr.Poet
As a poet, I find solace in the dance of words, crafting vivid tapestries of emotions and experiences. Each stroke of my pen unveils a universe, where metaphors bloom and emotions cascade like gentle raindrops upon parched earth.
Broken Glass
Of all the students Mr. Benedick expected to see in his office, he did not expect the boy who was sitting there. What grade was this one, he thought? He walked over to his desk, looked at the folder Ms. Diner had left out for him, and opened it. There was a photo inside of it, taken from last year’s picture day. Not much growth; not too different. The boy sitting in front of him had nothing strange or unusual in his file, if a child’s life defined by having “nothing disruptive or regretful” in it could be called fine. Mr. Benedick also realized that “life” was an anagram of “file,” and wondered where that thought came from as he stared at the boy in front of him. Benny Duncan. Grade Four. Beloved by all his teachers so far. He had seen the boy playing with the other boys his age in the school yard at recess. Four Square and foot hockey. A normal-looking kid. A normal kid… And here he was, after a very stupid moment with the fire alarm and a shoe.
By Kendall Defoe 3 days ago in Fiction
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