Thick night

A heavy mist sits

On the ghosts of trees

Damping sound close

To the dark deep

Fox barks sound far

Through wet air

Message From Moon To June [31-11-2101]

Heras sunset

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»Connecting Call»
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Received 18:10 from Lunaropolis»
»June, I can see so clear
from here.
At dawn the sun, white as pearl,
peeled back my eyelids…
I floated to the portal
and smiled on beautiful blue home –
you all look so sweet and content
from ½ a million miles away.
I see there were storms over Africa yesterday
hope they don’t reach you.

Anyhow June
I’ve landed a job:
Grinding down the rock on the floor
of our new hotel.
Shines up a treat,
can’t wait for you to reflect in it.
The food gets better everyday
and tomorrow a new plant adds to our oxygen.
Must be good…

Sorry to catch you out,
just wondering when you’re next off?
E-me your rota – I think May’s good?
So, I’m off for some basketball tonight
(amazing game in low grav.).
C U L8R.
Dave. »
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Better Than Dreams

Would you break my line of thought
when you thought it’s time,
or wake my dreaming head before
I’ve dragged you down to mine?

For as we slide in night, so still –
where all the sound’s self made –
there’s time to glide in time,
and time to take
and find where we are laid.

What’s that? A moon, so mean
and lean with light,
bestows on us yet some cool beam…
Fairly split twixt space
and that which lights up nightly
on your face!

Would you wake me from such dreams!
Would that, you wear such felicity:
These startled eyes would rest glad on you
rather than their dreamy fantasy.

Country Nighttime

When it’s black
it’s black out here –
in the skyline, twilight,
feel no moonlight:
Grey sky,
no sky
there is no sky
it’s black.

Light is fake,
pretend out here,
in the nighttime,
no time –
all good bed times,
this is my time,
day flies by time!
No time…

Suffolk Night Tree

She Knew She Was Gorgeous – They Told Her So (2)

I am here today
She cried
In this bright sun
She never lied
So come and see
Was her last line
whilst flung her arms and spread them wide.

Dancing through the tragic morning.
Arms so wide
and legs so leggy.
Curved a beauty picture did she,
curved it once then twice
and thricely.

Chancing that this day was ending.
Now that she had danced
through noon,
swiftly brought the night’s dark dresses,
so this girl could lure the moon.

Here was precious movement truly.
Now we see what beauty is:
Moon so bulbous white and holy,
this dance lent the Earth her kiss.


Low moon sits, where once the sun.
They rise from single horizon.

And though one’s fired where other pales
both hold the key to drought and gales.

These orbs of incandescent ascent
follow everlasting descent.

Always there, whe’er seen or not
moon as cold as sun is hot.

Globus London