Red moon it rises high
Like a beacon in the sky
A foreboding of what’s to come?
Or a battle had with the Sun?
Down below people carry on
Thinking it’s beautiful, nothing wrong
Like ants they move in a fast procession
A few though scared go to confession
Out in the wilds the pack looks up
In awe of the power, unlike us
As one they howl at the sky
Reaching far and wide the wolves cry
The red moon dark as blood
It’s just a phenomenon to us
But the wolves howl to their goddess
This rare spectacle they do feel blessed
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
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Caliburnus Rises 