" AND, THE COLD, CRYSTAL MOON LOOKED DOWN "

A PERIGEE ~ SYZYGY MOON  or  SUPERMOON

I failed terribly in capturing  the "undeniably beautiful" supermoon tonight, all thou, I was left with three interesting photographs for souvenirs of the special event.

"The difference between a fine oil painting and a mechanical thing like a photograph is simply this: a photograph shows only the reality; a painting shows not only the reality but the dream behind it--. It's our dreams that keep us going. That separate us from the beasts." HARVEY
Maybe so, but this photograph gives me the illusion of a fine oil painting with a dream behind it.

p.s. The supermoon returns tomorrow so I get another shot, literally,  at a better picture : )

*** Music of the Night ***

Although I started off to write this poem with every intention to being a happy one it took a turn of its own and simply came out to speak of life and death. But it is only the beginning of an idea and I’m sure some day more will come of it on a happier note.
While I was quite inspired by the beauty of the frosted spider’s web Bev took I was also touched by what we have and lose in life. I never thought of writing a poem from the perspective of a ghosts or spirit. So here it is.



Picture by Bev Wigney (C) of Burning Silo Definitely have a visit to Bev's website for it promises to showcase all of the beauteous wonders of our natural world she captures on film. Just click the picture of the Spider's Web and it will take you there. Enjoy.


*** Music of the Night ***

Listen, to the music of the night!
What joy it brings,
From somewhere, in the distant sight,
An echo of fond embrace, it carries on starry strings,
A beautiful song it sings.

And to the music, dance the twiggy limbs of trees,
While a spider looms black enchantment of his polished entangle,
Within the tree’s benighted leafy eaves,
Preparing for its unwary guest, secretly to strangle
Without an uttered sigh, he waits and dangles.

And all the while beneath his watch, beneath moon-beams,
A lonely heart broods mutely in treasured thought,
Basked in the afterglow of summer dreams,
Encircled by the light of impassioned fireflies, once caught,
It lingers in the twilight, conceiving of all that is now lost, that once had fiercely sought

And to the spider’s delicious delight,
At long last, his guest has arrived,
Within the finery of his home’s sweet lite,
This ballroom he so ingeniously contrived,
Will undeniably see his innocent one , will have not, the night survived.

Lonely is the heart that wonders,
Of the hour that was day
Of the hour that is night, of the hours torn asunder
Of a life that has gone by and now is gray
Of a life that now has all decayed.

*** ending thought ***

Oh but, sweet hour of the dawning,
Now gone is the hour of the night,
Now heart, look upon thy mourning, yawning
To the birdsong on the wind of light
Rising high above the trees, on a web of crystal white

Rough draft...


Will post Sunday the art inspired by Bev's Frosted Spider's Web

Affairs of my Heart ~ A Poem

Found this larger picture of the Mermaid and thought the poem deserved its own posting.





Affairs of my heart… I’ve fallen under your magical spells
Pinned to my spirit with brooches of jewels and of shells
I love all that is and all that shall be
Imparted upon this restless, unreeling happiest heart that is me

Words floating on air, sparkling and luminous… as pretty as a golden -haired lass
Encrusted with the twinkle and glitter of mica, crystal and glass
Love, dreams…imagine and wish to Believe, maybe a little naïve… do I Dare?
Fairies and mermaids do really live here!
With flowers and lace entwined in their wavy long radiant hair!


Darkness descending within this old house; winter is here!
Spirits of the night come to me near
Come close; be still, while I in joyous pulse write… by the candle’s vanishing light
As snowflakes outside softly drift down to the silence of the night


The hearth burns a jolly fiery glow and warmly gives call
Whilst twilight quietly fades into the rosewood hall
And the music takes note; embarks on its journey twisting and winding in graceful flow… in its gothic delicate dance …

And then begins the faint echo of the weeping and strange violins.


Summer’s wildflowers now have all gone with the wintry chill
But the tuberose, slender and tall keeps company with the curious cat precariously poised on the sill
Intoxicating in its sweet-smelling and heady perfume
I’m lulled into a false state of sleep under the broom

The owl patiently sits on the wood of the very old oak that resides in the little country courtyard
Above hangs a plump milky white moon in a sea of twinkling stars that keep him on much heedful guard
Books… threadbare and olden; keepers of lyrical words;
Senses wild with delicious enchantment I’m blissfully bestowed!
And the night of the winter lays quietly still under a white shimmering blanket of sugary snow

Annabelle 12/2007