Lunar library

I miss you in the quiet hours,
when the world has gone to sleep,
when memories slip through my fingers
and settle somewhere deep.

I still find you in little things—
in songs we used to hear,
in the warmth of an empty chair,
in every voice I wish was near.

I loved you in the crowded days,
I love you in the blue,
and somehow every road I take
still leads me back to you.

If distance had a language,
I think it would say your name.
If missing you were a fire,
I'd burn inside the flame.

Maybe love doesn't disappear
when someone walks away.
Maybe it simply learns to live
in the places where they stay.

So if you ever wonder
whether I still think of you—
look up at the evening sky;
I'm probably looking there too.

I left my dreams beneath the tree,
where silver shadows crossed the ground,
and whispered all the things to me
that no one else had ever found.

The moon was hanging low that night,
a quiet lantern in the blue,
and every star became a light
that somehow led me back to you.

I walked along the empty road,
with yesterday beneath my feet,
carrying every hidden word
I was too afraid to speak.

Then morning slowly touched the sky,
and painted gold across the gray.
I watched the darkness fade and die,
but somehow wished that it could stay.

Because some nights are meant to remain,
like little scars we never hide—
and some memories bloom after rain,
still glowing softly from inside.

Above the sleeping rooftops,
the moon climbed through the blue,
carrying a silver lantern
for the hearts that wandered too.

Beneath an old and quiet tree,
I watched her cross the sky,
while every little star around her
looked like a whispered sigh.

She painted roads with moonlight,
across the empty ground,
turning every lonely shadow
into something safe and sound.

I told her all my secrets,
the ones I couldn't say,
and she listened without speaking,
then slowly drifted away.

But when the morning found me,
her light was almost gone—
still, somewhere past the fading dark,
I knew she'd carry on.

And when the night returned again,
she rose above my door,
as if to say, I'm still here,
just like I'd hoped before.

Above the sleeping rooftops,
the moon climbed through the blue,
carrying a silver lantern
for the hearts that wandered too.

Beneath an old and quiet tree,
I watched her cross the sky,
while every little star around her
looked like a whispered sigh.

She painted roads with moonlight,
across the empty ground,
turning every lonely shadow
into something safe and sound.

I told her all my secrets,
the ones I couldn't say,
and she listened without speaking,
then slowly drifted away.

But when the morning found me,
her light was almost gone—
still, somewhere past the fading dark,
I knew she'd carry on.

And when the night returned again,
she rose above my door,
as if to say, I'm still here,
just like I'd hoped before.

Read, sweet, how others strove,
Till we are stouter;
What they renounced,
Till we are less afraid;
How many times they bore
The faithful witness,
Till we are helped,
As if a kingdom cared!

Read then of faith
That shone above the fagot;
Clear strains of hymn
The river could not drown;
Brave names of men
And celestial women,
Passed out of record
Into renown!

Zut! it's two o'clock.
See! the lights are jumping.
Finish up your bock,
Time we all were humping.
Waiters stack the chairs,
Pile them on the tables;
Let us to our lairs
Underneath the gables.

Up the old Boul' Mich'
Climb with steps erratic.
Steady . . . how I wish
I was in my attic!
Full am I with cheer;
In my heart the joy stirs;
Couldn't be the beer,
Must have been the oysters.

In obscene array
Garbage cans spill over;
How I wish that they
Smelled as sweet as clover!
Charing women wait;
Cafes drop their shutters;
Rats perambulate
Up and down the gutters.

Down the darkened street
Market carts are creeping;
Horse with wary feet,
Red-faced driver sleeping.
Loads of vivid greens,
Carrots, leeks, potatoes,
Cabbages and beans,
Turnips and tomatoes.

Pair of dapper chaps,
Cigarettes and sashes,
Stare at me, perhaps
Desperate Apachès.
"Needn't bother me,
Jolly well you know it;
Parceque je suis
Quartier Latin poète.

"Give you villanelles,
Madrigals and lyrics;
Ballades and rondels,
Odes and panegyrics.
Poet pinched and poor,
Pricked by cold and hunger;
Trouble's troubadour,
Misery's balladmonger."

Think how queer it is!
Every move I'm making,
Cosmic gravity's
Center I am shaking;
Oh, how droll to feel
(As I now am feeling),
Even as I reel,
All the world is reeling.

Reeling too the stars,
Neptune and Uranus,
Jupiter and Mars,
Mercury and Venus;
Suns and moons with me,
As I'm homeward straying,
All in sympathy
Swaying, swaying, swaying.

Lord! I've got a head.
Well, it's not surprising.
I must gain my bed
Ere the sun be rising;
When the merry lark
In the sky is soaring,
I'll refuse to hark,
I'll be snoring, snoring.

Strike a sulphur match . . .
Ha! at last my garret.
Fumble at the latch,
Close the door and bar it.
Bed, you graciously
Wait, despite my scorning . . .
So, bibaciously
Mad old world, good morning.

Oh, dere 's lots o' keer an' trouble
  In dis world to swaller down;
An' ol' Sorrer 's purty lively
  In her way o' gittin' roun'.
Yet dere's times when I furgit em,--
  Aches an' pains an' troubles all,--
An' it's when I tek at ebenin'
  My ol' banjo f'om de wall.

'Bout de time dat night is fallin'
  An' my daily wu'k is done,
An' above de shady hilltops
  I kin see de settin' sun;
When de quiet, restful shadders
  Is beginnin' jes' to fall,--
Den I take de little banjo
  F'om its place upon de wall.

Den my fam'ly gadders roun' me
  In de fadin' o' de light,
Ez I strike de strings to try 'em
  Ef dey all is tuned er-right.
An' it seems we 're so nigh heaben
  We kin hyeah de angels sing
When de music o' dat banjo
  Sets my cabin all er-ring.

An' my wife an' all de othahs,--
  Male an' female, small an' big,--
Even up to gray-haired granny,
  Seem jes' boun' to do a jig;
'Twell I change de style o' music,
  Change de movement an' de time,
An' de ringin' little banjo
  Plays an ol' hea't-feelin' hime.

An' somehow my th'oat gits choky,
  An' a lump keeps tryin' to rise
Lak it wan'ed to ketch de water
  Dat was flowin' to my eyes;
An' I feel dat I could sorter
  Knock de socks clean off o' sin
Ez I hyeah my po' ol' granny
  Wif huh tremblin' voice jine in.

Den we all th'ow in our voices
  Fu' to he'p de chune out too,
Lak a big camp-meetin' choiry
  Tryin' to sing a mou'nah th'oo.
An' our th'oahts let out de music,
  Sweet an' solemn, loud an' free,
'Twell de raftahs o' my cabin
  Echo wif de melody.

Oh, de music o' de banjo,
  Quick an' deb'lish, solemn, slow,
Is de greates' joy an' solace
  Dat a weary slave kin know!
So jes' let me hyeah it ringin',
  Dough de chune be po' an' rough,
It's a pleasure; an' de pleasures
  O' dis life is few enough.

Now, de blessed little angels
  Up in heaben, we are told,
Don't do nothin' all dere lifetime
  'Ceptin' play on ha'ps o' gold.
Now I think heaben 'd be mo' homelike
  Ef we 'd hyeah some music fall
F'om a real ol'-fashioned banjo,
  Like dat one upon de wall.

A girl i saw her today at a bus stop, I just see her face she was young, her eyes have beautiful dreams ..

It seems as though she wanted to tell everyone thing but she didn't know her eyes beautiful expressions told everything about her past and dreams ..

I want  to talk her but there is some thoughts stop me.
 She is so much beautiful with her eyes .

Be a light in someone’s  darkness
Be their lion when they are afraid
Be their butterfly when they lose their wings
Be their blanket when they feel frozen in time
Be their lantern when they can’t see the way
Be their power when they just have a flicker
Be their rainbow in their darkest storm 
Be their roots when they have lost their footing
Be their truth when they are wrapped in lies
Be their starlight in their  eclipse
Be, above  all else, their confidante , their ally

by Alison Johnstone

Stardust is the light of the World
Existing in truth in  a beautiful swirl
It lives in us from the first star’s presence
We have the strength of its true essence 
Our gifts  will shine from the highest tower
Blessing  the World  with our  magic  and power