Poetry

Barley Moon

Poetry

August is upon us and gracing us with a seasonal blue moon. Different than a traditional blue moon (second one in the same month), a seasonal blue moon is a fourth full moon occurring between solstices. So while August only has one full moon, we will have four full moons from the June Solstice to the September Solstice instead of the traditional three full moons.

Hence, a seasonal blue moon.

Other Anglo-Saxon monikers include the Barley Moon and the Green Corn Moon. The Algonquin, around the Great Lakes of North America referred to it as the sturgeon moon since this lake fish was plentiful in August. Either way, people around the world recognized this month as a time of plenty and a time to begin preparing for the long winter ahead.

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Honey Moon

Poetry
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Strawberries and honey
What’s not to like?
Those are two of the names
of this most recent incarnation of ‘Mother’.

Our gardens are close to giving bounty
While the rivers and bays are full
Keeping us well nourished
Just as she does

Sacred reflected light
It’s power

Washes over us
Energizes us
Ignites our souls
Replenishes our minds

It is for me
Another creative night
Bathed in magickal light
That must carry us through

until the next time Mother arrives

Blossom Moon

Poetry

This moon is traditionally also referred to as the Flower Moon. However I prefer Blossom Moon, as a number of North American indigenous tribes referred to it. Blossom Moon, to me, better encompasses all things that explode with life in the spring. Flowers are beautiful, I keep my share, but they are not everything.

I do apologize – I am a day late with my full moon ode this month, but alas life does happen at times, and I have not been in a good frame of mind to write until today. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.

© Wayne Davids

Secret Place

Poetry

What is cheerfulness
is it glee
what are all these emotions
I feel
that motivate me

Do I speak of those not
acceptable
Share my pain, my lethargic ennui
its all
I sometimes feel I’ve got

I’ll carry them in the secret
place inside
They call it heart or soul
but I
find it’s just the place I hide


© Wayne Davids
Image by Sammy-Williams from Pixabay

Pink Moon

Poetry

Spring teases
balmy days, but penetrating nights
crocus is past
narcissus blooms, then fades
but the promise of warmth and color is everywhere

From the flowering trees
to dancing honey-bees

April is the month of
vibrant color
delicious fragrance
audacious hope

The Pink Moon
embraces this season
marks its arrival
ushers it onto stage

For all the world to see



Image by István Mihály from Pixabay

xxvii. just a young gun — finding serendiipitii

Friends of Dinlas

okay, perhaps the wind was a little too strong        but it wouldn’t matter in the end               as long as she didn’t get too lost             galoshes up to her knees              covered in nature […]

xxvii. just a young gun — finding serendiipitii

Image by DarkmoonArt_de from Pixabay

viii. but are they real? — finding serendiipitii

Friends of Dinlas

she counted the stars from the belfry,        her book lay forgotten beside her –              what good was fantasy                        when the most beautiful reality               lay before her […]

viii. but are they real? — finding serendiipitii

Image by Littlerich from Pixabay

the shape of your hands — finding serendiipitii

Friends of Dinlas

gripped around warmth and song, caressing sharp teethand kissing bloodied lips. no screaming, just silence set against the crashing waves on an unexplored shoreline, breaking and sliding back with contentment. reminders embodied in stainless steel and gemwork tossing and turning on the thought of filling your hands and emptying herself. a grasp that never slips, […]

the shape of your hands — finding serendiipitii


For more of Ashley’s work pick up her book What the Sea Has Wrought on Amazon