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The Poets are Dreaming
Charlene Delfin 1990 (Mandaluyong City)
I miss dusk, when the sun goes down,
And I can feel it in my skin:
How the soft earth is cooling down.
And where the bright sun had once been
Becomes a gradient that goes down
From the brightest to the most dim.
They appear like illusions at first,
But as the night sky gets darker,
They twinkle, then it’s like they burst.
Stars. In every shining cluster.
If they were shining in just hertz,
They wouldn’t get any brighter.
And then in the east, she will rise,
So silver, I thought she was wise
On those nights when we were still nice.
The world doesn’t need so much light
Under her cool, silvery gaze,
When all is aglow in the night,
And I stay sleepless and awake.
The nightmares that she helped me fight.
I miss the moon and her soft ways.
Submitted by charlenedelfin on April 18, 2021
- 43 sec read
- 1 View
|Scheme||A B A B A X C D C D X D E E X F G F X F G|
|Closest metre||Iambic tetrameter|
|Stanza Lengths||1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1|
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"The Poets are Dreaming" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 24 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/97821/the-poets-are-dreaming>.
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