Today we are prompted by poetry! And our selection is “Moonlight, Summer Moonlight” by Emily Jane Bronte. 

“Moonlight, Summer Moonlight” — Emily Jane Bronte

‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

The moon has long been an inspiration for poets through the ages, and a summer moon seems to make things happen in a mystical, magical way. Be enflamed by the lunar brilliance a summer night presents. You can write a phase (or phases) of the moon. A blood moon, a harvest moon. If the moon can drive the tides, it sure can stir your poetic fire.



    Placid. Silent. Serene.
    In the glint of summer moonlight,
    you reverberate in my heart.
    I had returned, as promised,
    to this place we held dear. Right here.
    Where the stars are so clear,
    and the shadows cast on this stretch of sand,
    point to a section of beach. Our oasis.
    The call of the sea birds becomes
    a soundtrack of sorts. And the crash of
    Erie against the shore, stands as the only view
    for my sad and longing heart..
    Shards of moonlight dance, as scattered
    as broken glass, across the water’s murkiness,
    and in the glint of summer moonlight I remember.
    Breathless and nervous, we were.
    Loving and passionate, we were.
    And so in love. We were
    where we were meant to be.
    The heat of that moment warmed
    the sand beneath my feet and
    you filled my heart as you did then.
    In the glint of summer moonlight I felt
    the warmth of your smile
    and the sparkle your eyes left behind,
    lit this evening sky. And I fell in love again.
    In the glint of summer moonlight.

    (C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

    Summer and the Moon

    There are no seasons on the moon. No
            summers by the Sea of Tranquility–
            blue and sunny yellow rectangles,
            inflated with human breath, red
            sea monsters, boardwalks, smells
            of hot dogs and sweat salt. No

    evenings. Moths contending for the porch light, or bats
    to dip across the face of the blue Earth.

    Moonlight’s Music in the Mountains

    The moon painted the sky a hazy blue
    The cardboard cutout mountains
    on the horizon lent mystery
    Setting a romantic, magical mood
    Making its own harmony and melody
    Music heard in hearts of lovers


    Sail on, sail on summer moon
    low in the sky,
    you ain’t never been so low
    as you are now in these here months of June and July.

    Slow time brings a golden glow
    as on you roll,
    so sail on, sail on summer moon
    for me and my soul.

    Apologies to Nora Bayes and Jack Norworth, Shine On Harvest Moon, 1913


    does the moon up there
    see me with its crater eyes
    know my push and pull

    ubiquitous moon
    no matter the neighborhood
    you’re shining up there

    I can’t imagine
    making a wish on a sky
    empty of the moon

    I send you my thanks
    we kissed under your moonbeams
    she said she loves me

    in the palm of hand
    God holds even the gold moon
    from crashing to Earth

    these eyes see the moon
    a pale wafer, a gold ball,
    a night-sky sentry



    when angels pull down
    the shade of the night sky
    and stars yawn awake
    from daytime dreaming,
    the moon takes again
    her celestial throne
    and with cratered eyes
    surveys God’s Earth,
    records in lunar beats
    the ticking hearts of those
    who surrender to nightfall


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    Summer Moon

    We sit
    in awe.
    We watch
    that coiled moon of gold.
    A mirage that
    migrates the tops of trees.
    It pleases
    those lavishes of summer,
    those bees that sting
    a summer moon.


    Soft summer breezes wafting,
    a gentle sifting through the poplar branches.
    It enhances the night as I am serenaded
    by cicada bugs and the distant rumble
    of locomotive engines. Humbled by the expansive
    evening sky, I am mesmerized. The lure of lunar
    luminance draws my glances on the odd chance
    that someone else eyes this same satellite.
    It is a great night and it feels right to share
    this scene. Over a distance, the same moon
    is simultaneously viewed – together, a bond
    brightly borne. Come morning,
    before the promise of a new day, the display
    of this starlit night brings you both to this moment.
    Under this shared summer sky; a his and hers moon;
    we take joint custody of a shared passion

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

    What the moonlight tells me

    Was there a glint of moonlight
    in your eyes? a tender silver spilled
    as tears from heaven; you that night
    of early August, when we left to build
    a future life too far apart; we promised
    soon to write, but that alas we never did.
    You found at university Adonis
    and I found Aphrodite in Madrid.
    But as I watch the moon’s reflection
    I wonder if we made the right selections.

    © Björn Rudberg – 2016

  11. Pingback: What the moonlight tells me | Björn Rudbergs writings

    Early Anniversary Card

    We’re growing older,
    married nearly 46 years now,
    but it doesn’t mean
    we’ve lost any of our wow.
    We’ve had many tropical moons,
    and several sleepy lagoons,
    yet there’s no less love,
    none that we lack,
    and I still love you
    to the moon and back.

  13. Classical haiku string about the summer moon. oborozuki is Japanese for hazy moon.

    summer half moon drifts
    in a sea of blue – floating
    sakura petal

    summer night sky – I
    descry through blacker branches

    luminescent pearl
    worn by the night sky – baroque
    purity enchants

    the full moon flutters
    on the surface of the pond
    lone cicada sings

    the summer moon bursts
    from behind the clouds – startled
    an owl takes flight

    The Not So Silent Night

    When the curtain of night
    falls down around our ears
    and the silence
    is the only thing one hears,

    you may think everyone slumbers
    but as Luna rises
    you can hear the quiet whispers
    of creatures of all sizes.

    The magic comes alive
    as they appear to make merry,
    whispers of songs and swooping
    in the forest and on the prairie.

    And when the moon herself must slumber
    and she slowly slides away,
    the silence is the only thing you hear
    before the rising of the day.

    Sight-Seeing Moon Seas

    As my lunar lander orbits ever so low
    Cruising over the barren surface below
    Searching for the very best landing site
    To land my lunar lander and take a hike
    Or perhaps a ride in the lunar rover
    On land that’s yet to be driven over

    So very many seas for a moon so dry
    I guess they look like seas from way up high
    But on the surface they’re all just fields of dust
    Vast expansions of powder grey rust
    No waves or shores or sandcastles to play
    Yet someone named them seas anyway

    There’s the Serpent Sea with not one snake
    The Foaming Sea with no foam that it makes
    The Sea of Cleverness isn’t a joke
    And the Sea of Vapors has no smoke
    The Sea of Clouds with a clear black sky
    And the Sea of Showers is eternally dry

    The Sea of Cold lives up to its name
    The Sea of Crisis is but a barren shame
    The Sea of Nectar is void of any sweets
    Now the Sea on the Edge sounds kinda’ neat
    The Sea of Tranquility appears very serene
    But how does that make the Sea of Serenity seem

    So many seas and I can only choose one
    I’ve found one that seems it just might be fun
    One that has a name worth phoning home
    It’s called the Sea That Has Become Known
    What a very odd name to name a moon sea
    I’ll land and explore it and name it for me

    © Earl Parsons

  16. Pingback: Summer Moon Poem | Metaphors and Smiles

    Summer Moon Poem

    Lunar light has stretched her rays
    silver stroke paints landscape
    color slumbers under dark’s cover
    but bright contrast is brought to life.

    Moon brings blooms of field alive.
    So, I say yes…arrive.
    Night come – sun sleep
    highlight all these hidden edges.

    Help us to remember
    why we love
    in changing days.

    Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2016

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  19. What a beautiful prompt, and such lovely work here!

    I thought I’d give it a try:

    Where the sea and night sky are stitched together

    all is still as a millpond, all is calm

    and the moon is reflected perfectly

    an uninterrupted disc.

    Suspended above and below,

    you can hardly tell which is real

    and which is facsimile.

    But here, at the shoreline

    white horses hiss against the shingle

    flotsam and jetsam are flung at my feet

    as my toes grip to find purchase in the shifting sand.

    In my pensive mood, I think of us, of you, of me

    and how to onlookers, we appeared so at one.

    If only they had looked closer,

    if only we had taken the time,

    we would have seen the breakers

    and the Sea of Tranquility

    might have been saved.

    Hint of Summer Moonlight

    ‘Twas only the summer moonlight
    caused a fire wild and free
    she said, and stars of heaven bright.
    ‘Twas only the summer moonlight
    or I should have taken flight
    in the carriage they sent for me.
    ‘Twas only the summer moonlight
    caused a fire wild and free

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