Thursday, 19 September 2013

Phantasmoongoric

O coy lady of the night
How beautiful you were tonight 
When you woke up
With your tousled golden misty hair 
Rising draped in the black satin
Of stormy heavy clouds
Keeper of the gates standing
Between here and the netherworld
Your pale transient luminescent face
Calling to you the errant souls
Like a lighthouse warning
Lost ships of unknown but certain dangers
Yourself fighting the attack of a black dogged creature
From the netherworld trying to devour you
Later replaced by the combined press
Of two humongous etherals  crushing you
This was not a night of dancing 
Oh September moon
But was one of fights from which 
You gloriously triumphed.
 

Lucette C. Bailliet ©




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