Harvest Moon

And silver are the roses

Guarding heavens golden gate,​

Behind which looms a shadow,​

The shadow of eternal fate.​

A luminous, glowing sphere rises to the stars,​

Until at last it breaks free of heavens flow'ry bars,​

Approaching softly, slows, then past,​

The Harvest Moon rests at last, embedded, brilliant,​

Among stars.​



You have pretty good word selection. you poems have characrter. could you view my poem "cold Heat" and give me some feed back

poet- to -poet

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