Wednesday 16 January 2019

A Moths Wing 2017 Tamara Thompson

Silver Linings
Jason Mann
Abstract Artist
Canada, ON
A Moths Wing 2017 Tamara Thompson
I DREAM IN POETRY
On Amazon for my second poetry book


A muddy moths wing,
Carelessly flutters by,
Attacking or so it seems, he strikes,
Rubbing your arm, then shoulder, then wrist,
Skims crossing your cheek,
You move from left, then to the right.
His wing swings, quite swift.


The murky moth asserts its bland tinted wing,
Ready for a battle -or so you think.
Dodging its flapping flutter,
-Angrily he spins.


A moths wing,
Muddy in disguise, distasteful as can be,
It flies just the same.
Did a moth not come from the same place,
As a bird, or a butterfly with wings?


Muddy wings can fly and that is still more than I,
Though an angel with wings,
Could very well be the moths deep covered disguise,
As he flows by.
In urgency, the flaps, not resting or nimble,
An alarming message he bestows, but humbly...
Battering around with a sketchy sound,
He circles fast around.


What you think you can not do,
The bothered moth knows,
He then goes to the only light that glows.


His message is simple,
It is simple, just this.
"Turn your light on,
Stop living in the dark-
Nothing can be done when it's so dim,
There's nothing to see.
What you think you can not do,
You can though when it is bright.
Stop turning to the dark,
You can only be seen in the  light"


He begs,
"Please, leave my light on!
Or Come tomorrow, I will be gone.


The Milky Moth knows, much more than you,
As you angrily bat your arms at him-
By turning the lights on,
Your brightness will shine on.
Then everyone will see,
All the beauty in you- is in me.
What is lost will only be found
when the light burns bright.


The moth will leave, you'll see,
He won't be around too long,
So leave your light on,

Or your brightness too will be gone.

No comments:

Post a Comment