The Tears Of Pierrot Fall Poem by Paul Amrod

The Tears Of Pierrot Fall

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The tears of Pierrot fall upon a crescent moon
And all the sparrows wonder why it's raining in the moonlight
The melancholic somber atmosphere is the Mother of all sorrows
Still a nocturnal rainbow forms in the eyes of a raccoon
Etching a gorgeous pictorial glimpse into a goddess' sight
Pierrot Jean-Paul Lunaire
He is certainly quite debonair
With his locks, they fall so quiescently through the thin and narrow
His sentimental melody will sing from his viola
He tantalizes all disguises with his mystery tear
His languid qualities seems to persevere
To enchant the supernatural and the revered and hallowed
He resolves conflicting values with a classic romance endeared.
With a hazy autumn night an aura then appears
Encompassing the pranksters as they play with their scents and aromas
Presenting an illustrative narration from Apollo's arms
Pierrot describes a desert stream in search of firmament
With luring verses of soft expressions opening the mimosa
The tears of Pierrot fall to fertilize our hopes
with a charming whimpering and an alluring ambience
empowering our imagination far beyond each slope.
With the beams of sensualism the moon expresses contentment
engendering peaceful innuendos and Pierrot's gentle charms.
Incidental dew appears on the jacket of our clown
which personifies the inner wishes of David's cherished psalms.
Pierrot and Art Noveau will stop the candle's glow
The dreaminess and heaven's nest have captured all with care.
Pierrot Jean-Paul Lunaire
He is not to be compared
So nonpareil and the nightingale
chirps its abundant melodies to bring the courageous forward to declare
their weariness is over and soon we will embark and take sail.
Incessant swarms of affectionate musings have entered our chateau
to conserve our holy habitat and this harlequin we will hail.
The tears of Pierrot fall upon a crescent moon
And all the sparrows wonder why it's raining in the moonlight
The twilight of the dawn will salvage the blossoms of the rose
never to wither as a new morning is arriving soon.

Saturday, July 4, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: surrealism ,fantasy
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Paul Amrod

Paul Amrod

Chateaugay, New York
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