The sun is bright
The sky is blue
But the warmth of the day starts to waver
As the moon grows in her strength
The sun is dimming
The sky starts to darken
The moon’s army marches
To take over the sky
The sun and the moon
They meet and the battle begins
The sun’s coloured blood staining the sky
While the moon grows ever stronger
The sun starts to weaken
The sun starts to waver
While the moon’s cold beauty
Starts to shine brighter
The sun starts to dip
Close to the ground
While the moon’s argent people
Slowly flood the sky
The sun shines brightly
For one hopeful moment
But then she slips away
Vowing her revenge
The moon smiles
As she returns high in the blackness
And the land goes dark
And the land goes cold
- So this poem is one of my more creative ones that I handed in in grade nine, and received 100. Perfect. But for this one, I loved it because it tells a story. It’s not just a moment in time where something happens and I want to write about it. It’s about something that I love to do, and am far better at than poetry. Story tell. A short story, a novel, or a quick essay are my strong points. Poetry is a simple way to play with telling stories, as well as work on playing outside the creative box. So, thus a personification of the sun and moon, together, creatively. As I think, anyways.
