Conversation with the moon

The Oracle found a use for the rose photos I took yesterday

birthday rose

Though this wind scatters
the ruins of beauty
love is singing in the shadows.

We who cry will show you how
the darkness is shot through with light,
salt spray, the sweet scent of roses,

and the achingly blue above
fills with dreams,
sun-whispers drift like feathers.

Summer petals blow among the dead leaves
and running ditch water sings sea songs
when the moon swells.

Ask her your questions,
she will answer
in the tongue of the birds.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

27 thoughts on “Conversation with the moon”

    1. I don’t know what the variety is, but they were planted by the mother of the old man who lived here before us. She died in the 1950s I think, so they’re pretty old. They only have a faint scent, but they flower literally all year round.

    1. Thank you! It’s strange but last week I got the same page of words (with ‘ask’) crop up in two different word sets. Today the same page cropped up twice in the same set, with ‘ask’ (obviously). So I did ๐Ÿ™‚
      The roses never give up. They’re a variety that flowers 12 months of the year which is weird because the old varieties tend to flower once in early summer. It’s a gift.

      1. I got listen in both sets today. So, that’s pretty much an order to do so. ๐Ÿ˜ That is cool about the roses. It is quite a gift. We have some geraniums in a window box outside our kitchen door that are still blooming.

      2. They were planted longer ago than anyone remembers. Some time before the war, probably.
        I’m glad you have geraniums. We do too, outside the door under the porch.

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