Tag: poetry
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The Moon Howls
Did you know that the moon howled? Behind its brightened face in space, On the darkened side where secrets hide. Beneath the craters of pale white, Out of reach and beyond our sight. I heard it loud when I was adrift. A howling moon that the stars can hear. The spacemen at times, they speak…
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Begotten to Begone
In sunlight, when the sky still smiled; Idyllic dreams, loving desire. The heart dives deep, lovingly unbridled. Hell to skeptics and romance deniers. Zealous love; that sits like a cloud, it hovers there and barks aloud. New Zealand coasts, the story transpires. A legend told, at tomorrow’s campfires. It was like Peter and Wendy, but…
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If A Thing Turns Hard and Becomes Stone
If a thing turns hard and becomes stone, let it be a rock, leave it alone! For even rocks can cut to the bone, and split your soul, let it be known. Her pearly eyes that cut through me, The nights and days that made me believe. I held them dear, as priests cling to…
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The Fog Rolls In
The Fog Rolls on that New Zealand Coast, with smiles wide, unknowingly. Her hand in mine, and I miss that most, these moments rewind translucently. A night like nights, love in the air, our drunken blood and passioned affair. And as we ferried across the bay, a disagreement grew and grew to stay. There I…
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The Hilltop
Your within the isles of my love filled heart, The waves crash smooth, and waters gleam, Affection swoons with a romantic dream. Our eyes oft meet as do keys fit locks, Our love is like those two handed clocks. If i could suspend time and keep us there, I wonder then how our love might…
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The Greenest Days
The greenest days always brush your soul, You’ll feel it there, your heart lets you know. As flowers stretch, take their morning breath, When sun meets earth and dawn is met. Like orange skies as they’re breached by blue. As the moon recedes and hides from view. My heart ajar, the world feels so new.…
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There was A Day
There was a day like all other days, before our love had changed its ways. There hope exists without constraints, without that doubt that self-propogates. As a farmer that plots his tree, and wonders how it might grow to be; A few seasons pass as a tree may bloom– a farmer waters, tills, and prunes.…
Writings by Samson Mousa 