Waiting for the Blood Moon

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Back story:  The  sky ‘failed’ me. Waited for the blood moon, but it didn’t show up.  These are the moments I have captured instead while waiting.

 

It’s still glorious. 🙂

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Mr. Sun

Hello to you, you’re the king up once more

Before a rain comes along, dry the land as you did before

So I could smell again the fragrance  of the petrichor

That scent  the earth breathes out

Along a rainbow in the South

The earth could miss you no more

The longing clothespins by the thousand olden door

Please don’t go  away

The playground’s swing in frown will sway

 

When clouds shrouded you

And cried a river or two

The face of the sky was gloomy and blue

But now the wind shares a happier blow

As your smile begins to beam through my window

And it feels like the sweet kisses of summer

The vast green and the bright flora remember to glimmer

The scent of the newly cut grass that my friend once knew

The hymns of their tweets that flew

The heart beats the song of freedom

The feet dance to  serenity’s rhythm

 

My soul begins to sing, play and run

Hello, I miss you, Mr. Sun!

 

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August 24, 2013, 2:35 PM

Under my favorite tree, Sunken Garden

(Post typhoon Maring Reflections :))

To a Memory of a Summer’s Ray

She walked past the shadowy glasses

Reflecting the the eyes of the cloudless sky

She waited for a face that would bring her back

To a memory of a summer’s ray

To a look she met from hundreds of days

He probably must have already written on the air

That look perhaps, or surely

She doesn’t really know

She looked down to her  feet asking where to go

The familiar aroma greeted her instead

That fragrance that brings hundreds of reminiscence

That which whispers her to invite a pen, a paper and a wandering mind

To talk over cups and cups wandering thoughts

Chamomile tea sounds  appropriate for the moment

She closed her eyes as she sipped

The taste of nature right in her senses

Her eyes open with a wish to see a sign of him

The office workers chatting with fellows and some pages

She sits back

And begins to see him

in a poem.

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