The Color Of Moonlight (A Poem)
The Color Of Moonlight
A Poem:
By: Rebecca Elizabeth Galloway
Dedicated Lovingly to My Beautiful Mother, Joyce Elaine Galloway...
Until those eyes smile back at me once more...I love you, Mommy.
On that snowy December evening...
God gave me an angel in disguise.
To teach me, and guide me...
And gift me with the brilliance of her laughter.
And the gentle touch of her nurturing hand.
Now the shadows that hang around her closed eyes...
Reign supremely over her broken form.
I shudder in the chill of the sterilized air...
Watching every breath she takes,
Praying to whoever will listen that it is not her last.
There are stars out tonight...
Twinkling high in their nest up in the heavens.
How she loved to watch them shine...
Head tilted back, eyes raised...
Silver hair cascading down her back, and spilling over her slender shoulders...
But the star-gazer I once loved so well,
Has closed those eyes, the color of moonlight...
The beating of heart, and the rushing of blood;
Prompted by the macabre spider's web...
Of wires and tubes protruding from her body.
Angular shapes cover the cold, white walls...
Evil transfusions of light and darkness...
That play wickedly with my mind.
I lose myself in their patterns...
Longing silently for eyes, the color of moonlight.
A Poem:
By: Rebecca Elizabeth Galloway
Dedicated Lovingly to My Beautiful Mother, Joyce Elaine Galloway...
Until those eyes smile back at me once more...I love you, Mommy.
On that snowy December evening...
God gave me an angel in disguise.
To teach me, and guide me...
And gift me with the brilliance of her laughter.
And the gentle touch of her nurturing hand.
Now the shadows that hang around her closed eyes...
Reign supremely over her broken form.
I shudder in the chill of the sterilized air...
Watching every breath she takes,
Praying to whoever will listen that it is not her last.
There are stars out tonight...
Twinkling high in their nest up in the heavens.
How she loved to watch them shine...
Head tilted back, eyes raised...
Silver hair cascading down her back, and spilling over her slender shoulders...
But the star-gazer I once loved so well,
Has closed those eyes, the color of moonlight...
The beating of heart, and the rushing of blood;
Prompted by the macabre spider's web...
Of wires and tubes protruding from her body.
Angular shapes cover the cold, white walls...
Evil transfusions of light and darkness...
That play wickedly with my mind.
I lose myself in their patterns...
Longing silently for eyes, the color of moonlight.