Florid Moons

fervid doth my heart display
upon the slightest thought of thee
dormant dreams arise anew
when florid moons sing incantations

sordid affectations
of this wastrel’s world disperse to naught
beneath the sheath of shadows
and the solitary quell

knowing all too well
this quietude will fall
by brandished sol
its call belies our silent reverie

ere the dawn bestows its blessing
lonely vows bleed vesper’s veil
plots of untold errant solace
lost amid the hour’s assailing

muted miles of sloe and slumber
hapless, by the sky’s refute
once consumed of aural umbrage
eyes beguiled wept rapturous woe

life in dulled gray street’s meander
sights and sounds of pandered plight
such effusive flights of fluster
never would we find profound

ours is of the hourglass sifted
leave the heedless hordes to wrest
we remain unscathed by fires
hailing from the hell-bound rust

[image credit: James R. Eads]

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

2 thoughts on “Florid Moons”

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