The Poetry Marathon

She is the Sound of the Night Sky

If the
stars could sing
they will have her
golden voice
and

the silver
moon will play the
violin made of wavy
strands from her
ebony hair

With a heavenly music that’s so strong
One will surely love her to the bone
With a heavenly music that’d last nightlong
One will never feel alone

“But I have promises to keep”
-Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

Glowing Pen

And to my shadow I bid goodbye
As the night swallows my bleary eye
Yet I’ll keep my pen and keep it bright
With it I’ll write words that won’t die.

The night is starry, lovely, and deep
The wind chants rhapsody for me to sleep
My glowing pen is losing its light
But I have promises to keep.

Whose words these are I think I know
His house is in the heaven though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch my pen lose its glow.

In a night so starry, lovely, and sweet
With a chant of wind that is hard to beat
I will hold my pen, I will not sleep
I will write the promises I keep.

Bathroom Door

Every droplet
of cold water that
rains on my face
drowns me
in solace
and wonderful thoughts,

like how words cleanse my soul and wash my sorrow down to the floor,

or how the ground thirsts the life brought by rain after an eternal drought.

But comfort
is overrated
and wonderful thoughts
never go
beyond the bathroom door.