Harvest Moon Light Poetry

Harvest Moon, Lunar, Moon

Image Credit: Pixaby

This year has been a historically exciting year of astronomical events around the world. From the Comet 45P/HMP in February to the Lyrids meteor shower in April to the Total Solar Eclipse in August, there is no doubt a great deal of galactic activity constantly going on above us, whether we are aware of them or not.

Get ready stargazers because tonight you get to witness the Harvest Moon. Although it most commonly appears in September, this is the closest full moon to the autumn equinox appearing tonight. It is traditionally known as the Harvest Moon because it gave farmers more light and time to gather their crops for the winter. So grab those binoculars and telescopes and drink in the grand mystique of tonight’s Harvest Moon! Of course, many of the moon’s surface features are also noticeably visible.

Harvest Moon Light

Look up, can you see it
ascending majestically on the eastern horizon
as the sun descends in the western sky
the crown of a perfect lunar sphere rises
an orange radiance illuminating in the twilight
I want to mount on a hill and sing passionately
like the lovesick harmony of a wolf’s howl
the light of the night, shine on Harvest Moon.
– ©Kym Gordon Moore


Poetry for the Day: Soul Within

Poetry, Soul Within, Wings of the Wind, Self-Awareness

Ok, everyone is different and I don’t think anyone disagrees with that. We come in various shapes, sizes and a kaleidoscope of beautiful skin tones. None of us are perfect, yet oftentimes people tend to base their perfection on what society deems as perfect and imperfect.

Body shaming has become a type of bullying that has taken on a new life of itself. At the beginning of this Millenium, I was in a business that catered to the beauty and fashion industry and was deeply pained by witnessing an overwhelming amount of women voicing poor self-imaging comments based on what they saw in advertisements, in the movies, and on television. 

I wrote a poem, Soul Within to voice how many women felt about themselves before social media exploded to the extent it has today. Although this isn’t one of my best poems, I am pleased it appeared in the Reach of Song Anthology 2003-2005 and was a winner of the Edward Davin Vickers Memorial Award in 2004. Later, I included the poem in my 2013 collection of poems, Wings of the Wind: A Cornucopia of Poetry and find it is still relevant today.

Soul Within

This body I wear helps me deliver the message
planned before my very existence.
I may not have a voluptuous hourglass figure
or rock solid washboard abs,
but my limbs are functioning satisfactorily.

My vision is not 20/20
yet many are blind and wish for sight.
The grade of my hair may not be acceptable to standards
but those with alopecia hope to have a little bit of mane.

This body may have bruises and scars
although the pain will not destroy me
whether wrinkled, tired and worn
that cannot kill my spirit.

Perfection is not mine to have
as long as I wear this assigned body
faith, obedience and resiliency thwart the destruction
of hate and incomprehension to my being.

The body I wear does not define me
but the spirit I add represents the essence of my substance.
What I feed and cleanse it with
is detrimental to my existence –
a life hereafter, forevermore.

I am the vitality for the body I wear
for without me it is lifeless and cold.
When the time comes that I can no longer accompany it
I must relinquish it to the dust from whence it came.

Time Marches Onward

Time, Poetry

Time does not stand still. You cannot place it in a bottle, neither can you buy time. Sometimes we act as if we have all the time in the world and sometimes it takes something so catastrophic and sudden to realize that time is not always on our side.

Time Marches Onward

Things are not the way they used to be and they never will be the way they once were. Time has passed, and you can’t recapture that time because that time had its time. This moment is what you have, and what you do with this time, can be a matter of living or existing, and life versus death.
-Kym Gordon Moore

Poetry: Celebrating the Anniversary of the Star-Spangled Banner

Star-Spangled Banner, Poem,Francis Scott Key, National Anthem

Image Credit: George Hodan

Who would have imagined that on September 13, 1814, after Francis Scott Key penned a poem which was later set to music, would go on to become a national treasure? In 1931 this poem became America’s national anthem, “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The poem, originally titled “The Defence of Fort McHenry,” was written after Key witnessed the Maryland fort being bombarded by the British during the War of 1812. Key was inspired by the sight of a lone U.S. flag still flying over Fort McHenry at daybreak.

The Star-Spangled Banner Poem

O say can you see, by the dawn’s early light,
What so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight
O’er the ramparts we watch’d were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,
O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream,
’Tis the star-spangled banner – O long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion
A home and a Country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash’d out their foul footstep’s pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand
Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!
Blest with vict’ry and peace may the heav’n rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv’d us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto – “In God is our trust,”
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

The poem was printed in newspapers and eventually set to the music of a popular English drinking tune called “To Anacreon in Heaven” by composer John Stafford Smith. People began referring to the song as “The Star-Spangled Banner” and in 1916 President Woodrow Wilson announced that it should be played at all official events. It was adopted as the national anthem on March 3, 1931.

Happy Anniversary
Star-Spangled Banner!



Sorrow At My Doorstep

Grief, Poetry

Shawn Tonise Moore, our beautiful flower plucked away!

I realized from writing and reading obituaries, they are like cliff notes or a piece of poetry that only gives an abbreviated version highlighting a few significant attributes of that person’s life. You learn about what the person has accomplished, but you can never fully grasp the life of that individual unless you truly ‘knew’ them beyond the words on a program.

You know, when death in the family occurs, especially when it happens suddenly, such news stops you dead in your tracks, and you feel like you were violently tossed to and fro like debris from the eye of a Level 5 tornado. Last week, our daughter-in-law was suddenly plucked from our family bouquet at a very young age. She and our son were headed to what we saw as a future of achieving great things when death came in and told her it was time to depart this world as she once knew it.  This left all who knew her, in shock and devastated. She made such a tremendous impact on the lives of so many and it seems unfair on so many levels that she was taken from us so soon. This is something we have a hard time processing and understanding, although we know that life and death dwell in the same climate. Our life’s plan of this earthly existence was in place before we were even conceived. How we choose to live the dash between our born day and departure day is on us.

Sometimes you feel you don’t have an ounce of strength left to just get up, as you’ve cried so much that it seems your tear ducts will dry up at any moment or you ask when will this dreadful nightmare end? Even though people offer their condolences, everything feels so surreal and as it is with life we are never, ever fully or partially prepared for death, even when an extended illness is the cause. It’s as if our spirit has been hit with a taser shooting stun gun, only this time life has been severed from the earthly vessels we are using right now.

Sorrow At My Doorstep

Why are you here causing me such sadness
gripping my spirit with heart-wrenching pain
suffocating my throat to dare not cry out
I did not summons you to come here today

Yet here you show up at my doorstep unannounced
moving shadows of the scythe-wielding grim reaper
crossing my threshold where joy and peace reside
interrupting smiles and great joy with sorrow

consoling my grief is difficult, caught in a tug of war
laughter escapes, as I know not when it comes again
a seething sadness stabs through my wounded heart
how can I move forward and let time help me to live on?

© Kym Gordon Moore

Everyone has their own way of grieving and processing death, as the pain makes our hearts heavy, and squashes our joy like mashed potatoes. Still, it can’t kill our spirit although it tries. We get through these challenges one breath at a time, one day at a time, and while we never forget the laughter, love, and joy the people who leave us behind left in our hearts, that void can never be replaced. We use the remnants from death to fertilize and nourish seeds that birth new life. Yet, we will learn through our grief and struggles to stand again, to garner strength from our weakness and at some point begin to smile a little bit more. For such healing, we can only rely on our faith and the precious gift of time, of which neither shall be wasted on foolishness.

For our dear beloved Shawn and several others who joined her this week on their transitory journey, we may cry and ask the never-ending question of why, but in our pain we must instead ask how did her life impact ours, so that we may make the necessary spiritual adjustments to be better servants and the pure, genuine kingdom builders God intended for us to be.

Poetry of the Day: Oh Troubles Sail Away

Ballons, Troubles, Poetry, Surrender

Image Credit: Kai Stachowiak

It seems like trials and tribulations can weigh us down and bury us deep. With divine intervention, we can surrender those troubles, as if we are tying them to a balloon and watching them float away.

Oh Troubles Sail Away

Like a helium balloon
ever climbing and reaching upward
I tie my hardships to its flagging string
releasing it from my constricted grasp

I watched it sail into the lucid air
drifting in the arms of a gentle breeze
I surrender the weight of unsolicited burdens
wherever it goes I do not care

no longer does it hoard my inner sanctity
like dumping bricks from a wheel barrel
the higher it goes the smaller it gets
sail away oh mighty troubles, sail away.

© Kym Gordon Moore