The Moon is a White Peony

The moon is a white peony tonight

Glowing in the firmament's dark surround

With a diadem of stars tiara-bright,

The reigning queen of heaven justly crowned.

But when she slips across the dark frontiers

Lost her gift of luminosity,

The night is stark, the stars are silver tears

Shed in grief for her inconstancy.

Yet when we've wept enough the crescent horn

Appears, a floating arc of mystery.

Again in hearts eternal joy is born

Her loveliness our earthly legacy.

She waxes slowly, as the bride appears,

Sovereign of poets, intimate of seers.