{"id":5490,"date":"2026-08-27T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2026-08-27T16:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thehorrorofbeingemily.com\/blog\/?p=5490"},"modified":"2026-08-23T16:25:19","modified_gmt":"2026-08-23T23:25:19","slug":"moonlight-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thehorrorofbeingemily.com\/blog\/moonlight-poems\/","title":{"rendered":"Moonlight Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Moonlight Poems<\/h1>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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The full moon is rising and with it comes a beautiful night under the stars. It is the perfect setting to read moonlight poetry. Here are 5 public domain poems about the moon and nights like tonight.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"Waiting\u2014Afield at Dusk\" by Robert Frost<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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What things for dream there are when spectre-like,
Moving among tall haycocks lightly piled,
I enter alone upon the stubble field,
From which the laborers\u2019 voices late have died,
And in the antiphony of afterglow
And rising full moon, sit me down
Upon the full moon\u2019s side of the first haycock
And lose myself amid so many alike.<\/p>

I dream upon the opposing lights of the hour,
Preventing shadow until the moon prevail;
I dream upon the night-hawks peopling heaven,
Each circling each with vague unearthly cry,
Or plunging headlong with fierce twang afar;
And on the bat\u2019s mute antics, who would seem
Dimly to have made out my secret place,
Only to lose it when he pirouettes,
And seek it endlessly with purblind haste;
On the last swallow\u2019s sweep; and on the rasp
In the abyss of odor and rustle at my back,
That, silenced by my advent, finds once more,
After an interval, his instrument,<\/p>

And tries once\u2014twice\u2014and thrice if I be there;
And on the worn book of old-golden song
I brought not here to read, it seems, but hold
And freshen in this air of withering sweetness;
But on the memory of one absent most,
For whom these lines when they shall greet her eyes.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"Yellow Autumn Moon\" by Issa<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Yellow autumn moon…<\/p>

unimpressed the scarecrow stands<\/p>

simply looking bored<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"Moonlight, Summer Moonlight\" by Emily Bronte<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,<\/p>

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.<\/p>

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"Under the Harvest Moon\" by Carl Sandburg<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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UNDER the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.<\/p>

Under the summer roses
When the flagrant crimson
Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,
Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,
And asks you
Beautiful, unanswerable questions.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"Halloween.\" by Madison Julius Cawein<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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It was down in the woodland on last Hallowe’en,
Where silence and darkness had built them a lair,
That I felt the dim presence of her, the unseen,
And heard her still step on the ghost-haunted air.<\/p>

It was last Hallowe’en in the glimmer and swoon
Of mist and of moonlight that thickened and thinned,
That I saw the gray gleam of her eyes in the moon,
And hair, like a raven, blown wild in the wind.<\/p>

It was last Hallowe’en where starlight and dew
Made mystical marriage on flower and leaf,
That she led me with looks of a love that I knew,
And lured with the voice of a heart-buried grief.<\/p>

It was last Hallowe’en in the forest of dreams,
Where trees are eidolons and shadows have eyes,
That I saw her pale face like the foam of far streams,
And heard, like the leaf-lisp, her tears and her sighs.<\/p>

It was last Hallowe’en, the haunted, the dread,
In the wind-tattered wood by the storm-twisted pine,
That I, who am living, kept tryst with the dead,
And clasped her a moment and dreamed she was mine.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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These beautiful moonlight poems are just a fraction of what you can find by searching for public domain poetry. I highly recommend the Open Poetry Project<\/a>, which has a catalog of nearly 109,000 poems in the public domain. You can browse the collection or search for specific keywords (like “Moon” or “Halloween”). It is a great way to discover classic poetry, and palatable for poetry novices.\u00a0<\/p>

Poetry showcases the beauty of language and you can discover new meanings the more you ruminate on a verse. I love spending an evening reading under a moonlit sky!\u00a0<\/p>

\u00a0<\/p>

Want to read some of my poetry?<\/p>