The Moth

The Moth short poem

Velvety fur so soft and smooth,
Brown wings of hope clinging to the truth;
It’s hirsute body glowing in the plethora of the fire,
The moth flies an inch closer;
Wings of fire, it still flies,
An evanescent memory of the moth lies…

The moth is drawn to fire as I am drawn to you.

The mischievous proboscis; feeling the unfelt,
Myriad compound eyes, watching you with all it warmth;
The opulent display on its wings symbolizes brazen thoughts,
I watch the creature as it circles it’s death;
It’s tiny body throwing a penumbra against the fire,

The moth is drawn to fire as I am drawn to you.

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Like A Moth To Your Flame

Like A Moth To Your Flame short poem

I thought I must be crazy, Becoming too attached to someone I can never see. And it’s difficult to believe, You could become just as attached to me. Drawn to your fire, Like a moth to a flame. On and