My Muse, the Moon
In the middle of the night,
when the butterflies
dance to the moon's song,
I create constellations
with the map of my soul,
allowing astral lights
across feathery skies
to guide my chrysalis
heart back to an avenue
of cosmic reveries.
I lay in a bed of
delicate petals,
and dream-catchers
designed in emerald
swallowtails.
They remind me
of how I found my home
in the gossamer warmth
of your lunar
struck presence.
And when sirens echo,
across silent seas,
distant muse ebb and
flow symphonies of
mystical mermaids-
grieving at the
outskirts of
bioluminescent shores.
For in your absence,
I long to hear your voice,
as the crystal clear
crescent glimmers,
amidst the fragile truth,
floating above
a flurry of glass-winged
jitters, that camouflage
with hypnotic tales
lost in the air.
Tonight I’ll lock
my pollen dusted
dreams in slumberland..
where peacock pansies
interwoven with
pastel peonies,
would be tucked
beneath sweet
scented sheets..
Your love is the
perennial blanket
to all my
nocturnal fears,
as hieroglyphic runes
of life rhapsodize
a lyrical elixir for the
shifting spheres,
whilst change is cloaked
in mellifluous hues,
unraveling a choir
of nature,
orchestrating a
celestial chorus-
to illustrate
cloudless mornings.
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