PURPLE MOONS

A poem by Deborah Brooks-Langford

Purple moon of you

With purple skies of new

With shapes that blaze a trail of love

To show the things that is yet to come.

The love it shows deep within.

The mountain pains to feel the way

Through frilly lisps of purple light

To bleed the blood of the night;

The purple sings the songs of old

Righteous that is known to know

Obvious freedom of living there

Among the purple icons so far and so near

Come autumn late and watch the night

The sun the moon and planets full.

To drink the glass of marble light

Walking alone at dawn

Seeing the purple that is a fright

And reaching for the slanted light.

The purple Moon and the purple night.

BY: DEBORAH BROOKS-LANGFORD

COPYWRITE 2011