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Blue Moon

by William Simpson


The smallest, brightest, whitest moon
rose in the bluest sky;
And boasted greatest brilliance as
the latest day slipped by.

It marked the quietest ending to
the loveliest of days;
And heralded Evening’s fastest star
to rave its boldest raves.

As Evening slipped to darkest hues
the Moon soared highest heights;
And proved the brightest beacon in
the gloomiest of nights.

The darkest eastern sky again
betrayed by brightest hue,
The sulkiest moon would yield the Night to
skies of richest blue.

The earliest of rising suns its
grandest entrance made;
And bid ‘Farewell’ the bluest moon,
Which paled the palest shade

…but stayed.

10/25/2006

Posted on 10/25/2006
Copyright © 2024 William Simpson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by A. Paige White on 10/25/06 at 05:17 PM

Welcome to Pathetic! I enjoyed your essay and this sample of your poetry.
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Posted by A. Paige White on 10/25/06 at 05:22 PM

oops, sorry about that... it never does right when I generate more than one image at a time... arggg.. welcome anyway, will try again tonight at home to put a pic...

Posted by A. Paige White on 10/26/06 at 01:32 AM

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Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/26/06 at 02:32 AM

An interesting study in superlatives. I enjoyed the read.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/28/06 at 12:16 PM

William, you bring to mind such fare as I have seen in my better days, and all described to perfect fever pitching and in so reading your words venture and anticipate me onward to more scintilating days that are yet to be and welcome home, soul voyager!

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