Poems About The Stars Novels & Stories

She sat down again, with a meaningful space between us which got me to smile lightly, of course, she wasn't aware of my smile, because her face was buried in the book she was not reading, she was just avoiding my eyes. "Back to the poem; Poem for My Love by June Jordan." I read out the title of the poem and its poet before handing the script back to Adrian. "Read out the poem Miss Williams." She took it from me and began reading, "How do we come to be here next to each other in the night Where the stars that show us our love are inevitable Outside the leaves flame usual in darkness In the rain Falls cool and blessed on the holy flesh." She raised her head to glance at me, "That's all Dr Raph

The rain came pouring down, you came into the life, making me feel the sparkle in the sky, wishing the stars to stay forever, in the eyes of yours. And even in the darkness, even in the multitude of universes, Our names may be forgotten, but the soul will never forget the caress of a lover.

The curse is breaking, and no punishment is good enough to make me throw away the idea of freedom now that it's closer to me than ever before. So, I'll sing for now, and simply cherish this moment of peace before its gone. "Listen to my voice, feel me in your arms, wrap me up in the colours of your love, and kiss me with the lies that you love. I don't need you like you need me. I'm a moon child. One that speaks to the moon. And I'll sing with the stars, And dance in the light of your dreams. And just cause you're not here, doesn't mean I'm lonely."

I couldn’t blame him, he doesn’t know after all. I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the starry night sky. Knox was like the stars. I could only watch him from afar but I couldn’t be with him. And then there’s the moon, Emerald. The stars represent Knox, twinkling and dancing in the midnight blue sky, clear of any clouds. Performing the eternal court, praising the moon and its beauty.

On the night of my 30th birthday, I waited until the early hours of the morning, but my husband, Theodore Hawk never showed up. Instead, I came across an Instagram post from his childhood sweetheart, Emily Gallagher. [What romantic is not the starry night, it's having you by my side.] In the picture, she was wearing a delicate, sky-blue camisole that revealed just enough to charm and seduce. A man stood close behind her, his hand firmly gripping her waist.

I'd lain in bed with the lights off for hours last night, waiting for him to come home. There hadn't been any point in trying to close my swollen eyes, sleep wouldn't have taken over, anyhow. Not until I knew he was safe. While I stared at the ceiling, my eyes drifted out the window. It never ceased to amaze me that no matter how much turmoil took place on Earth, the moon and the stars didn't lose their luster. They shone just as bright, and they hung safely in the sky where they'd been for ages, unaffected by any raging storm below. If I could have found a way to reach one of them, I would have.

Lying down between the trees, he pulled me onto his chest. “The shape of the stars, when seen with the naked eye, looks like tiny points of light. But through a telescope, they reveal themselves as luminous spheres, each unique in its glow and intensity. It’s like a shimmering veil stretched over infinity, dotting the firmament with their soft, radiant light, creating an indescribable spectacle of beauty. Some stars shine with a strong, steady glow, while others flicker delicately, as if sending messages of light across the cosmos.”

He gave her his widest grin and pecked her lips this time around. "Hmm, lemme pour my own new poem for you. It's a lonely night Silently watching the heaven above that has no gap Quietly wishing it also has the small crack That is separating my heart from being one and whole The stars are getting acquainted to each other Helping the other twinkle And I wish they'd look down at me and flicker the dying Light in my soul and bring it back to life Still watching as the old dry palm branch shaped moon Slowly drifts down to the appointed term

“There’s this beautiful poem Nana used to read to me about the stars sometimes when I came here. I didn’t fully understand it then, but I think I do now.” “She called it If The Stars Could Speak. It was by one of her favorite poets Clariel Estevez, if I remember correctly.” He turned fully to her now, rubbing his palm along the exposed skin of her arms. He could only be grateful the dress wasn’t fully sleeved like all the clothes she enjoyed wearing. “Wanna hear it?” He asked when she didn’t say anything.

So I'll memorize the constellations of her freckles, The sound of her laugh like distant thunder, The way she sees beauty in broken things.. Especially in me. And when darkness finally claims her, I'll remind the world that even extinguished stars Send light traveling for centuries, Illuminating paths they'll never know they touched }