Harvest Moon

Why don’t you just pop over and take a look at Carol’s musings – they are worthy and worth it. G:)

Bus Stop Musings

And going back, my eyes drank in a poet’s moon

Gold, and bold, and stipple-streaked with grey

Thoughts un-numbered filled my clouded heart

Stumbling stones collected through a troubled day

Yet the dinner plate cut through the indigo

Stark, and cold, but warming nonetheless

Speaking eloquent, of seasons richly crowned

Moments though unleashed to harm us, still could bless

Lives are tribulation-filled, but joys abound

We, enduring, run from tear to laughter

Cyclical, the harvest must return

Kindling hope, to heal forever after

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