Breathe in the power of this Moon.
Harvest has come, cut back the swollen roots.
Bow down before our twisted bronze gods of old.
Lift voices of age and wisdom amidst this glistening tide,
Give forth the life which has given off blooms.
For now we seek rest and perchance a dream, of paradise before the frigid storms.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.