That is me, a simple girl who loves the silver Lady
and who watches her nightly as she travels across a star scattered sky. .....this is my homage to her, my LadyMoon

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Moon-lovers may be interested in this..

plus more....

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Into the sunset's turquoise marge
The moon dips, like a pearly barge;
Enchantment sails through magic seas,
To fairland Hesperides,
Over the hills and away

~Madison Julius Cawein

Thursday, July 31, 2014

If the new moon is not visible before the fourth day, the air will be unsettled for the whole month

 Francis Bacon, "Historia Ventorum".

Monday, July 21, 2014

Another night, and thou among 
 The spheres of heaven shalt cease to shine 
All rayless in the glittering throng
 Whose lustre late was quenched in thine. 
Yet soon a new and tender light 
From out thy darkened orb shall beam, 
And broaden till it shines all night 
 On glistening dew and glimmering stream 

 From Bryant's "The Waning Moon.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

  How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air;
  No mist obscures; nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
Breaks the serene of heaven:
  In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine
Rolls through the dark blue depths....  

 Robert Southey

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

“It was the first breath of the new moon, but the whole of it was visible, a perfect ball of violet and indigo cupped in a sickle of light, luminous among the stars.”

― Diana Gabaldon
Written in My Own Heart's Blood

Thursday, July 3, 2014

The moon, the moon, so silver and cold, Her fickle temper has oft been told, Now shade--now bright and sunny-- But of all the lunar things that change, The one that shows most fickle and strange, And takes the most eccentric range, Is the moon--so called--of honey! 

~Thomas Hood

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Tuesday, July 1, 2014


When I admire the wonder of a sunset or the beauty of the moon, 
my soul expands ......

~Mahatma Gandhi

Sonnet to the Moon

Sonnet to the Moon

Now every leaf, though colorless, burns bright
With disembodied and celestial light,
And drops without a movement or a sound
A pillar of darkness to the shifting ground.

The lucent, thin, and alcoholic flame
Runs in the stubble with a nervous aim,
But, when the eye pursues, will point with fire
Each single stubble-tip and strain no higher.

O triple goddess! Contemplate my plight!
Opacity, my fate! Change, my delight!
The yellow tom-cat, sunk in shifting fur,
Changes and dreams, a phosphorescent blur.

Sullen I wait, but still the vision shun.
Bodiless thoughts and thoughtless bodies run.

Yvor Winters

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Queen of the silver bow

"Queen of the silver bow! by thy pale beam,
  Alone and pensive, I delight to stray,
And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream,
  Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way;
And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light
  Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast:
And oft I think-fair planet of the night--
  That in thy orb the wretched may have rest;
The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go--
  Released by death-to thy benignant sphere;
And the sad children of despair and woe
  Forget in thee their cup of sorrow here.
Oh that I soon may reach thy world serene,
  Poor wearied pilgrim in this toiling scene!"
 ~Charlotte Smith.

At a Lunar eclipse

At a Lunar eclipse

Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,
Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine
In even monochrome and curving line
Of imperturbable serenity.
How shall I link such sun-cast symmetry
With the torn troubled form I know as thine,
That profile, placid as a brow divine,
With continents of moil and misery?
And can immense Mortality but throw
So small a shade, and Heaven's high human scheme
Be hemmed within the coasts yon arc implies?
Is such the stellar gauge of earthly show,
Nation at war with nation, brains that teem,
Heroes, and women fairer than the skies?

By Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)