Blog Archives

Buried moon

Buried moon, buried moon Who to talk about at noon When dreams are plundered by light And powdered in gold and charcoal dust. Crescent fairies are sad in the rouse and at falter to surmise the scanty slumbering traces that

Tagged with: , , , , , ,
Posted in Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith

“Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.” -Iulia Halatz

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,040 other followers

Top Posts & Pages
Proud to have contributed to alive words that create a world without maps:
Are you fluent in choosing your English?
Call: +40722.841.053 contact@cursinengleza.ro.
My community