Moon's Quiet Cycles, a poem by Shae T at Spillwords.com

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Moon’s Quiet Cycles

Shae T·June 10, 2025

English Poetry

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Moon’s Quiet Cycles

written by: Shae T

The new moon slips in without warning
A dark whisper around stars bright
A thin crescent peeks confidently
Grow bolder with each passing night

Half full she stands her middle ground.
Reminds us to pause in every journey
The Gibbous moon swollen with purpose
Bright enough to cast shadows in my yard

And, finally, night’s perfect answer
Her fullness, enormous on the horizon
Tugs at oceans, tugs at every heart
Fascinates one throughout time

So comfortable in its own knowing
Begins to retreat, disappears again
Until that first silver thread reappears
Moon’s quiet cycles never end

About
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Shae T

I am very new to the world of poetry. I started writing poetry the Spring of 2018. I work in healthcare and live in Dallas, Texas in United States.

Suman Pokhrel

Suman Pokhrel is a Nepali poet, lyricist, playwright, translator, and artist. He debuted in 1999 with a poetry collection and has since published works, including translations of Shakespeare and global poets. His poems are translated into many languages and taught across South Asia. A two-time SAARC Literary Awardee, he also received Asia’s Inspiring Poet Award and was named Author of the Month by Spillwords in June 2023. Beyond literature, he works as a freelance consultant in socio-economic research, rural development, entrepreneurial development and creative writing. He began his career in Nepal’s civil service and later worked with international NGOs. He holds degrees in Science, Law, Business Administration, and Economics.

Condoms by Seán Óg Ó Murchú

They all laughed at me. All the dinner ladies. It started with your one, I’m after forgetting her name now… Smelly Nelly’s ma. A wet little tear trickled toward her tattooed cheekbone. She was roaring red. Her harsh, wheezing laughter sounded like a black taxi tackling the Whiterock Road, her throat destroyed from all the fegs she used to be hoofing into her. She called over the other dinner ladies then, an army of them. Or maybe it was the curiosity of her horrid laughing that brought them over… I can’t remember.
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I looked between herself and the girls. Jesus Christ, I said in my own mind, Mental Mick is after stealing all my crayons that I’d been hoarding for myself there before the break...

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