How High is the Moon

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Sat, 20 Sep 2008
  • 5590 reads
18 comments
 

Best friend, Nickii came to stay.
Took me outside
for the first time in weeks.

Dusk was fast falling. The sound of sheep
bleating, music to my ears as we rest a minute
by the porch.

Half in envy, half in pity, I watch a moth
court the lamp, fly inside and disappear
without a trace.

Then something catches my eye.
Above the farmer’s field, the harvest moon
shrugs off a cloud

which brings to mind, ‘The Moon’s a Balloon’
or so said David Niven. And I would tend
to agree.

“Nice to see you smile,” says Nickii,
as I reach out – catch hold of its string
as it floats on by.

Magic, that’s what it is. Wind in my hair
fresh air on my face. I’d forgotten
what it felt like.

We pause on the porch
before she takes me back inside.
Just one last look.

Like schoolgirls we giggle, mad she calls me.
Both on a high, but then again,
how high is high?

Broadly speaking, as the crow flies,
it’s as much space as I can put between me
and these shackles of mine.

Half in envy, half in joy I see the moth
fly free, disappear into the night …

Maybe ask it.
Maybe it might know.
As I watch it kiss the moon.

Certificate PG
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by DandelionSeeds on
its interesting love, DandelionSeeds

love,
DandelionSeeds

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
There is a history behind this poem and I feel that somehow you read between the lines. It is in a fact a true story, as related to me by my daughter, who was living out the last few weeks of her life at a local hospice. She was a great nature-lover and that night, her friend, Nikki, gave to her much more than just a walk around the hospice gardens. Thank you for reading and for your interest. Tina

 

Submitted by mori saltson on
There are some lovely lines here; the harvest moon shrugs off a cloud, the moth 'courts' the lamp. I almost feel that the wheelchair reference is 'telling' us rather than 'showing'. We already feel a sense of unease in the character, a sense of feeling trapped and therefore a sense of escape, so i'm not sure if this feels right. To me, I prefer the mystery of knowing something more is happening/has happened behind this poem that we may never find out about. This may be way off the mark though!

Submitted by sunshine on
I agree that the direct reference to the wheelchair isn't necessary - I think this implied well enough before we even get to this point, so much so that 'wheelchair' jars a little. Was it the you need to mention it? Nevertheless this does have some lovely phrases and does evoke that sense of loss, and of fleeting pleasure. Margot

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Thank you so much for your thoughts, Margot, but I guess I don't have any choice but to go along with my daughter's. For 20 years she fought her battle with cancer and it was only in the last 2 months of her life that she finally had to let go her independance. The wheelchair was her prison, as indeed was her illness and at only 39 years old, I can sure understand why. She wanted to fly free, like the moth and in the end, on New Year's Eve, 2007, she did. Tina

 

Submitted by MistakenMagic on
This is another beautiful poem Tina! If my forte is love poems then yours is imagery within poems :) My favourite lines; 'Above the farmer’s field, the harvest moon shrugs off a cloud' 'I watch a moth court the lamp, fly inside and disappear without a trace.' I also loved the brilliantly crafted language of the moon being a balloon. It breaks my heart to hear about your daughter, but I'm so happy you can draw this poem, something positive, out of your experiences. I'm sure she would be very proud of you and your poetry! Magic x

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Magic, thank you. Andrea, my daughter, has inspired much of my poetry over the last twenty years, ever since she was first diagnosed. During the latter stages of her life, I found that the only way I could deal with the awfulness of the situation, was by trying to see things from her perspective. Climb inside her mind if you like, and look through her eyes. When she was finally admitted to the hospice, she in fact took a collection of my poetry and also some short stories that her sister had written, also inspired by her. They meant much to her and so - yes, you were right, Magic:-) Tina

 

Submitted by littleditty on
Tina - like much of your writes, here are images that are 'felt' (one suggestion - could trim 'of mine' allowing the next rhyme sound to be 'night') xxx

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Ld - hi! I hope the 'marathon man' has completed his run, so to speak;-) Much appreciate your words and as usual,your more than inspired expertise. Tina xx

 

Submitted by jennifer on
Love this image: Magic, that’s what it is. Wind in my hair fresh air on my face. I’d forgotten what it felt like.' And your truth is heart-breaking. However, I agree that to obviously point out the wheelchair is telling and not showing - we got that, without needing the word. It jars slightly with what is otherwise a beautiful 'showing' poem.

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
With 3 people sharing this view with you, jennifer, I tend to think you are right and I am most definitely wrong. All I can say is, thank you for 'tipping the scales' and I have edited it. I think it is a bit of an improvement. My thanks to you again and by the way, jennifer, you picked out the words dearest to my heart. She missed the fresh air so very much. Tina

 

Submitted by sunshine on
And now the emotion flows beautifully, making the poignancy of "how high is high" and the envy of the moth so much more powerful. A deserved cherry and no doubt your daughter would understand the poetic licence taken with her words and feelings. She remains, after all, the sweet inspiration for this poem. Margot

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Margot - thank you. Tina

 

Submitted by MistakenMagic on
Well done on the cherry Tina! This poem really deserved it :)

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Magic - thank you so much. And while we're on the subject, congratulations on yours. Fortune-tellers always fascinate me, especially paper ones. Tina:-)

 

Submitted by MistakenMagic on
Thanks Tina, it's strange, I have no idea where my fortune teller poem came from, I haven't played with them for years - well inspiration always strikes when you least expect! And as I'm finding now it always strikes when I have pretty challenging essay that I really should be working on!

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Good luck with the essay, Magic. Even a budding author likes you needs a little luck sometimes:-) Tina:-)

 

Submitted by MistakenMagic on
Thanks Tina :) Well my essay is done and sorted, boy am I relieved! But my teachers think it's funny to give me more work as soon as one thing is finished - I barely have time fore poetry :( Magic x