The Road To The Moon
The night with its loneliness
Was running thru the shrubs, trees.
Our eyes we couldn't close as it meant
We might miss the night's beauty.
We had the moon above our head.
Stroke of mild winds was following us.
The water of a river mirrored the moon;
For a sec's view we found while passing it.
The moon spread its thin sheet of light
Near and far showing our way to its home.
Did the road lead us to the moon?
The road perhaps would end at the house of the moon,
We all would rest upon in the lap of its zone.
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Comments about this poem (The Road To The Moon by Neela Nath )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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