The Moon and I

Arouse the honeycomb 

Tea braids

The baritones have arrived

Their apples filled in come dithery

Guitars weeping

 

On the stage corner 

Lost junkets of Presley 

Art speckles 

From heaven

Descend

Now is the time of angels

Now is our day of everything

Elucidate the June bug

Fireflies of May 

A brigade in cricket thigh

Fairs of summer are

Stoned and

Swirling like love

Your rainy voice 

And we stay here

On the night

A pair in rumble seat

Reviews

[Eve S.]

It was the title that first hooked me, because I also wrote something about "the moon and I", but after reading your poem, which I found mysteriously romantic, I felt lured and smiled. Don't ask me why, mind !

"Fairs of summer are
Stoned and
Swirling like love
Your rainy voice"

These lines were my favourite part; I ltend to like broken images. The mysticity of the nightly atmosphere your words created, where heavenly art, gently weeping guitars, angels, and fireflies melodiously fuse is simply beautiful. Thank you for sharing. I had some seconds of delight.

Peace

[Perdition]

And peace to you as well

Truly one of the greatest reviews I have ever received. Left me thinking, not only of your response but of your ability to write as well. You left me sorta staggering in my gait here. There is a reason beyond "a speck of dust" in your words..a pulse that leaves you sad and wanting to read more. Unfortunately it must wait till a little later but I am not worried as I am certain the pulse will hold, Thank you…very much~~