Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I awoke,
saw a crescent moon
its light on the ocean.

What word expresses such beauty?

Frail, fragile, faint----no.
The light is as strong in its low intensity
as a whisper.
My eyes hear the secret being told
to the ocean that foams with lace and softly roars.

The light on the water is unattainable,
more elusive than a handful of sand.

How feminine that teasing, alluring.

My thoughts just jumble, tumble over themselves,
driftwood in the surf.

I don't know if the poem works. Line four is a remnant from a previous version. The emphasis in the poem has shifted from the verbal expression, the verbal description, to the thing itself.

And I wonder if adhering to some strict traditional form would give the poem strength. traditional form could be a straitjacket too.

It worked for me
thank you for writing