Blue Faerie Moon

Poem By Russ von Ohlhausen

I search by envied pond, by light of this blue moon,
Heart fanes to see my nature’s nymph in all full glory’s bloom.
My faerie love once met me here but now has gone away.
I wait to see her once again as blue light fades to grey.

Still enchanted from the days we kissed upon this envied shore,
Souls met here to be as one, and hope to be once more.
This moon light shines my path, as I pass through Faerie Glen,
I make this pilgrimage of the heart to see her once again.

For many a moon I’ve wondered, if she still knows her way to here;
But still I come to this fair Faerie Wood in hopes she’ll find me near.
As night moves on, the worst I fear, her wings for good are lost;
I pray she finds them for her sake, no matter what the cost.

As time pass by, she forgets the truths of bygone faerie lore,
Only glimpses I have known since those days we knew before.
Many nights, have I traveled here to wait for her return,
Knowing rest must happen now if true love we’re to earn.

She told me once with teary eye, meet me here again she would.
She does not show herself for now so wait in vain I should.
Reckoning has come to her, I will not see her soon.
But come again shall I, upon this faerie moon.

Comments about Blue Faerie Moon

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

2,9 out of 5
11 total ratings

Other poems of OHLHAUSEN

Poets Are Losers

The art of the word yields little fruit when it's first conceived;
It must take root and grow in passionate minds if ever to be received.
A craft much learned of sadness from this world we’re in,
As we suffer right along until our solemn end.

Beautiful Destruction

A rough rain falls on the river running as a
fisher casts over tainted water, and
Black blood burns as the wars are raging and the
soldiers argue who’s hell is hotter.

Envy The Common Man

How I envy the Common Man,

To live in the world that we create.
To drift on the winds with no debate.

Lost In Thought

(A fun little diversion)

I thought I thought a thought,
a thought I thought I thought.


I melt with the snow on the tops of mountains
I babble with the voice of the humble waters
I sip from the lake on the open plains

Edge Of The Dream: Becoming The Creator

In the time before Time, there was the void of nothing that was not known,
for nothing existed to know it.
The Creator was not then the Creator
for nothing was then created.