Full Moon and Wind, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Full Moon and Wind

The wind like a sweeping broom
Wish, swish, rattling every dish
Providing sounds of looming doom
Clouds so fearful begin to weep
What object to overcome such gloom?
Every given answer is “Not I.”
Even the voices from the tomb
Yield for fear to be exhumed
Through the day all stayed at bay
Allowing the wind to have its way
Finally comes the end of day
Now above their many heads
They take notice of the full moon
Gleaming bright with a silly grin
Taking control of what’s below
Giving an eye to the nasty wind
Which falls softly as a lamb
All is quiet in this night
It is now time under the covers
That all heads shall be out of sight

The Voice, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The VoiceThe Voice, Summer Night, Edvard Munch (1896)

The Voice

Your voice calls to me on this summer night
I hear you but you are out of my sight
Lost, not knowing what direction to go
Now wondering if I will ever know

Like a longing love bird sing out to me
Hide not your body behind any tree
If you are real your song will not stop
And I will search for you until I drop

As if an owl I will take rapid flight
With the thrilling full moon as my search light
I’d ride the soft summer wind ’til you’re found
In but a moment I’d be on the ground

You immediately I shall embrace
Falling gently to a heavenly place
Of our lovers’ bed of deep silky moss
On your heart my initials I’ll emboss