Carolina Moon

The Carolina Moon,
I've been missing it of late.
But tonight it's full and bright,
And its kiss is like a date.

I've been missing it for weeks
its been hiding behind clouds.
But now the Carolina Moon
is back and does us proud.

The Carolina Moon
will be watching us all night.
Up while are sleeping,
a soft and lovely light.

In just a few more days
it will be leaving us again
Hiding behind clouds
while it leaves us soaked in rain.

The Carolina Moon
you need catch it while you can.
It's a long road it must travel
'til it kisses us again.

Note 1: Photo taken just now. 9:45 PM
It will go down just before I wake.
Sleep well. ❣

July 11, 2022

Note 2: Last year at this time i missed the Moon for 3 months. When I first saw it once more in September I cried. And vowed never to take it for granted again.

Moon rose at 7:45 PM. It will set at 4:44 AM

The One Whom I Love Now

If it were not set
that I had met,
the one whom I love now.

I couldn't accept
that I wouldn't yet
contrive upon just how.

To go about
and make but mine
two hearts I know would surely pine.

Would be no doubt,
nor waste in time,
that I would act in haste for thine.

Two souls would shout,
our hearts would whine,
though moon and stars couldn't help shine.

Had fate not coined
my heart be joined,
I cannot see but how.

Were it not set
that I had met,
the one whom I love now. 

After watching "If I Were King" with Ronald Coleman as the poet/bandit Francois Villon earlier in the day, I awoke at 4 o'clock this morning and wrote the following, then went right back to sleep.

Villon is in love with Katherine, who is a Lady in Waiting. Though she is also in love with him, she is also bethored to another and her duty to the Crown separates them irrevocably. A lady-in-waiting is a female personal assistant, attending on a royal woman or a high-ranking noblewoman. Historically, a lady-in-waiting was often a noblewoman, too, but of lower rank than the woman to whom she attended.

So, their love is ill fated and never to be, because he is an outlaw, and she is part of the Aristoracy.

The poem is from her point of view, but in the style of Villon, so it really expresses both of their feelings towards one another.

Written in about as long as it takes to speak. Maybe a minute, tops. Then I went back to sleep.

 

The Moon Flower

 

Here's a beautiful but strange flower,
which only blooms for a quick twelve hours.
After tracking the Moon across the sky,
when the Moon goes down the flower dies.

The bud behind it will blossom when
the next week's phase of the Moon begins.
And for every quarter after this one
a new bud comes just to be gone.

Such beauty born but for to die;
its only use to please man's eyes;
portends some power so much greater,
is evidence of some Creator.

Tied as it is to Earths only Moon,
born just to live and die too soon,
is pause to ponder just who we are,
circling round this vast sea of stars.

Photo by Sue Williams

 

The Usho

  

In Gifu when the sun is low,
in evenings, spring to fall,
the Usho take their poles in hand
while lanterns light the way.

The Cormarant sit on the bow
strings tied around their necks.
They dive for little fish to eat
and Usho hold their sway.

From May through each October,
except on Harvest Moon,
the Usho and the Cormarants
work as one to seize their prey.

Down on the river Nagara
this is an ancient life,
to feed themselves and the birds,
though cruelly some might say.

Through the words of Haiku
Ukai tradition reigns.
2 millennium produced this course,
which still goes on today.

And with Ukai and the Usho
on Gifu Cormarant are chained,
for fishes in Nagara to be caught.
These ways are here to stay.


Oil painting "Fishing" by Nancy Bennett
Photo from Sue's trip to Greensville Artists Guild Gallery.

The Fallen

                              

Some fell on the beaches, some fell from the sky.
Some died in the trenches, never knowing why.

They died for flags, they died in rags,
in clothes so battle torn,
Some died before they fully knew
why they were even born.

Some died upon the spots they fell,
and went quickly to their graves.
Some lived to tell their tales of hell,
wondering why they had been saved.

The best, the worst, dead last or first
they all died just the same.

Some had scars which couldn't be seen,
or plates worn inside their heads.
With lungs so scarred from gasses
they could hardly draw a breath.

But all of them died heroes,
on this we all agree.
They died deaths not for them selves,
but died for you and me.

Photo by Wm. Shone Williams
Circa July 1918 in France

Wm. Shone Williams died at age 43, with a metal plate in his head and lungs scarred from mustard gas. It took him 25 years to die. A belated casualty of "the War to end all wars." He was the grandfather I never knew.

Ode to Arcturus

Every year around this time
I change my "wishing" star.
There are only 4 of them,
held close, though they are far.

Light years beyond where I stand
and gaze at their magic light,
my wishing stars look down on me
and keep me safe throughout the night.

When Orion fades and Betelguese
have left my nighttime view,
Arcturus comes to guard the Bear
and bring me luck anew.

If you don't have a wishing star
then take a look and see,
just find the Dipper's handle
and share it's love with me.

Ed's Place - "Nighthawks"

In the all night diner in the corner of my mind
there isn't anything that you can't find.
Eggs, pancakes, ham and more
there's nothing here you cannot score,
in the all night diner in the corner of my mind.

At the corner of Wide Awake and Dreams
you'll find everything and anything it seems,
that you have ever craved
or lose everything you've ever saved,
at the corner of Wide Awake and Dreams.

Though the guy who owns the joint may not be cool,
he's street wise and he doesn't suffer fools.
He'll fix up  a broken heart,
and stop fights that never start,
though the guy who owns the joint may not be cool.

In the cafe that's always open all night long,
Theres a jukebox that always plays your favorite song.
The lyrics might be kind of trite,
but it plays them every night,
in the cafe that's always open all night long.

It's a place that never seems to draw a crowd,
but in a subdued kind of way is always loud.
It's a place to wait for dawn,
sipping coffee while you yawn,
it's the place that never seems to draw a crowd.

There's one just like this place in any town,
and it seems to draw the people who are down.
For folks who have no jobs
and hearts filled with lonely sobs,
there's one just like this place in any town.

Inspired by Edward Hooper's "Nighthawks".