O beguiling crimson Moon
Fiercely blazing for want of thee;
Descending beneath faltering clouds;
Her coy distractions and brazen
Laid bare and stripped rude...
Like the naked lightening tree.
Stealing forth his confoundments
Dealt by bloody, craven fingers
Which do betray and disavow
The sacred pledges
Made unto the black veils
Of night-time down...
When, drifting carnally upwards
Against your sleeping form -
Stooping to kiss upon that fiery brow...
Thus forged an incestuous alliance
Beneath the distant stars
Of a broken plough.
Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2015