Monday, February 13, 2017


The moon, my mistress of the night, watches,
Gazing upon the lake by which I stood
Peering across to distant shores and dwellings
Unfamiliar. Luna looked upon me and took pity
For my lonely state that night, and offered me
Her mångata: "Come lad, don't be afraid. Walk
The center of my light. Ignore those waves of doubt
Looking only upon me." Oh Lunar Lofty Lady, would
That I had faith enough and courage to step out
Into the gracious unknown of your provenance.
But she, with eloquence did reply, "My son
Times there are for throwing caution to the wind.
At moments such as these, the only shame
One might wear are dry clothes and shoes."

(C) 2017 David W. Palmer

1 comment:

  1. Written originally for Tina G in the Words Community of G+