Marooned In The Dance Of A Midnight Cloud
Stranded in the oil dampened skies,
lost amongst the grey heavens of Earth,
marooned in the dance of a midnight cloud.
In Venice, a gondola gracefully slides
through the moonlit water.
Candles guide the way along the venetian
river as music can be heard soothing a man
who laments for his lover.
Night is still an infant.
The portrait of the sky is illustrated by painted
stars, an exquisite sight through prison bars.
The imprisoned men are still inspired through
their piercing eyes.
Under the cascade of night lies a hidden sadness.
A watering eye of a stone gargoyle,
wishing to break free, cemented to the
stone balcony of a Moscow cathedral.
Buried beneath the sparkling gaze of lavender light.
Shanghai sleeps peacefully though its lights are
still bright, the peach coloured moonlight draws
its crayon wash upon waters of calm.
Small boats sail along the misty river,
slipping past a terrace of buildings and docks.
Cairo glistens from its desert moon,
the pyramids project their raw beauty upon the Nile
as the moon smiles with its colossal white face.
Night is like ink splattered across the sky.
Across the land,
a lonely wolf stands on a hill,
howling at the stars with its primal voice.
The moonlight cries, its tears drop down in
a shower of rain.
It weeps from the fear of its morning
battle with the fiery giant.
by Danny Gurnett
|
|
