Forgotten – Part II

See my last post for part I.

For years, decades, centuries, more, Moonlight frosted the mountains as sugar might a sweet pastry, lending the cold stone, the quiet trees, grace and calm. This made the mountains, stone and tree, very happy. Happily, the trees stood embracing the day, knowing Moonlight would return at night. And the mountains slept under the sun, waking only to greet Moonlight’s glow. But the Sea cared not for Moonlight’s touch for he wished to rest beneath night’s dark blanket and cared not for Moonlight to dance and twirl upon his broad shoulders nor across his sleeping face. This made Moonlight very sad.

To be continued…


Image result for quiet sea moonlight

I’m reading a book and in the book there’s a story, a story written with ink as black as forgotten memories, forgotten stories, a story about Moonlight and a quiet Sea, a sad story, still, a story that must be shared, if you’ll hear it? Would you hear it? If not, it may be forgotten.

It’s Morning

Since I learned my screenplay was being reviewed by Warner Brothers, a few weeks ago, I haven’t heard a peep. Frustrating! Still, I’m grateful. Therefore, in the meantime, I turn to poetry and a Saturday morning.

What are you doing this weekend? Have a great time!

Image result for fog in the trees

It’s Morning

And the gray has tumbled
over the hills
as puffs of dirty cotton,
insulating the space
between the maple limbs

and where the air slips
through the fence pickets.
The birds are still.
The hour is too heavy to fly.
The world has slipped

beneath a wet silence
or, maybe, it’s only the distance
beyond my window,
over the black roofs
and the hills

where the gray has tumbled
as dirty cotton.