Poetry Competition: Madam Moon
The hum of waves against the sand,
The breeze kissing my skin.
The way the wind moves each hair strand,
Like the warm touch of healing Kin.
She sits above, on her throne a-way,
Looking into my soul.
She reads the many struggles a day,
And witnesses the toll.
With depth and tide, they all obey,
Wind and storm, no matter.
With tears or laughter, all night she’ll stay,
To watch you cry or laugh, there after.
The moon she is my goddess, my own,
To stay with me forever.
To monitor my tact and tone,
She is my laugh, my love, she is my clever.
By Lunah Eir