POETIC BLOOMINGS, a site established in May 2011 and which reunites Marie Elena Good and Walter J Wojtanik to help nurture and inspire the poetic spirit.


After a sweltering day, the night has cooled a bit and it’s a beautiful night. A soothing breeze is present. There’s a moon out tonight. Nothing special about that. Unless you make it special. Your poem will be a night poem. Be inspired by the moon. Think of a song that sings of the night. Or write the sounds of night. The night sky. Yes, the moon and stars. Silhouettes in the night. Strangers in the night. Paint the romance of night with your words. Write the despair of night with your words. Play the music of night with your words. Just don’t take all night as we rediscover the evening sky!


I was late posting up the prompt  and never gave Sara a chance to prepare her poem, so we will submit our poems in the comments box. Thanks for understanding!

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    Perspective Night

    O miniscule star
    A billion light-years away
    Thanks for showing me
    My troubles are microscopic
    In comparison to galaxy of time

  2. William Preston on said:

    NB: I call the form below a “Parsons poem” because I think Earle Parsons originated it here a few years ago. It’s essentially a Crapsey cinquain except that the final line has seven syllables instead of two. I like it a lot.


    When stars
    do not compete
    with the moon at zenith,
    their twinkling completes the heavens
    with a little night music.

  3. connielpeters on said:

    The Moon

    The moon sat on the mountaintop,
    as if it were going to camp there.
    Reluctantly, it disappeared,
    perhaps searching for poets to inspire
    for a romance to rekindle,
    or a lake to admire its own reflection.


    When vestiges of rain drip from night clouds,
    They soak the sallow face of moon like tears.
    Is this a lunar weeping or mere streams
    That course the rugged rims of cratered moon?
    To know this secret we are not allowed.
    Might galactic darkness lead these stone spheres
    To a loneliness so profound it seems
    They weep in orbits of a cosmic swoon?
    We see the night mistress, its chest puffed with pride,
    But are we blind to the sorrow locked inside?


    Hump Day Haiku

    When the moon was hung,
    what was left for Him to do?
    Oh look, a rainbow.

    National Pastime

    Night games don’t thrill me,
    they just seem out of touch
    with the soul of the game,
    the drive home is too much
    Take me out to a day game,
    I’m always up for that.
    We’ll swap lies of our prowess,
    when we held a bat

  7. connielpeters on said:

    Great poem, last two lines especially.

  8. In the End

    The night moon waits, lingering,
    behind the evening clouds.
    It was only noon
    a few minutes ago,
    sun shining,
    largely with hope.
    The day moon looked on then too,
    faint but present,
    with portents of things to come,
    easily ignored by most of us.

    When our final moment arrives,
    as it assuredly must,
    with a light brighter than
    the moon and stars,
    it will be in the middle of the night.
    No matter the time.
    One will know the past
    ended last night,
    and in the end,
    our lives are simply stories,
    and night comes all too soon.

    The world will proceed
    with its plan.

  9. Moondreaming

    I hung the moon
    among the clouds
    with a shiny silver tack
    then tossed some glitter in the air
    and watched it brighten
    up the sky until the night
    began to glow
    I rearranged the glittery
    stars into fantastic shapes
    of hunters, sister, bears,
    dogs – and with a smudge
    of my thumb left a smear
    of milky white behind
    I saw small faces looking up
    with smiles of wonder
    and it was good

  10. Quite the artist

  11. Consequences Of Moonlight

    Blue moon saw me standing
    on the dark side. Why did I not heed
    the warnings of a bad moon rising,
    disguising itself with a smile
    and wink–distinctly not a harvest
    moon to dance under with love
    and wonder. I would rather be
    staring at a moon over Bourbon
    Street–sweet saxophone blowing
    a moon dance tune. Instead,
    moon shadow follows me, swallows
    me in an eclipse. I find myself walking
    on the moon at midnight.

  12. Moon Melody

    Tell me there’s enough love
    in the midnight moon
    for one more foolish feeling.

    Before I’m sorry
    breaks out like a bittersweet melody.

    Put your hand on my heart.
    I can hardly breathe.


    The shade of blue
    made for the haunting lilt
    of the blues. Anguish lives
    in every note and nuance,
    a musical séance encrusted
    with rusted memories
    and melancholy dollies.
    Swirling the ice in my empty
    glass at the corner table
    of this dingy hall, the music
    calls my name, but no answer
    is forthcoming. The scotch is numbing
    my synapses, and when my memory
    lapses, I’ll be singing midnight!

    © Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

  14. Quite possibly, Daniel. Something surely came over me!

  15. Earl Parsons on said:

    Shoot the Moon

    On the baron beach
    Touristless at long last
    Umbrellas and coolers gone
    Just one beach chair
    One tripod mounted
    With camera at ready
    And one long range lens

    A cloudless night
    Humidity low
    No stray lights to interfere
    With the vision on the horizon
    Rising majestically
    Half exposed
    Reflecting on the calm gulf
    Time for action
    Time to shoot the moon

    © Earl Parsons

  16. Playing catch-up. Again.

    A Little Night Light

    I lit a candle, then held it
    to the moon,
    two sulky spectres, like
    two dreamy eyes,
    and I watched them
    both unravel into
    a golden gleam,
    although the candle
    twitched and trickled
    a waxy vine
    down my arm.


    © Misky 2016

  17. Seemed like a fun prompt.
    Shape Poetry

    . You
    ..Were my
    …..first shining
    ……..light, my hope
    ………amidst loathsome
    ………..bleak and darkest
    ……….. night, a lullaby aglow
    ………… with a song for me – a
    ………….protector as long as I
    …………. needed you to be. No one
    …………. could breech or shatter
    …………. my dreams, your smiling
    …………..promises shone down
    …………..and lit up a calm peace –
    ………….a tranquil invincibility –
    …………Your celestial body; a
    ………..smiling crescent laid
    ……….bare with me, you were
    ………there first – you are
    ……..my first man,
    …….centre of my
    …..night, my
    ….only man,
    …in the

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