O Moon

September 13, 2014

Hanging there in your ethereal dress

White against the stellar blue of space

Poet’s muse and lover’s last lament

When haunted by the beauty of a face;

Has man defiled you with his heavy feet

Trampling boldly on your sacred dust

To learn the secrets you have hidden well

In his insatiable conquering lust.

And yet who can defile your mystic spell

The reflection of your enigmatic smile

Waxing, waning through the solar years

Bear with us impatient men awhile

For soon a new-born sun will grace our days

And lover and beloved will sing your praise.