Mystery of Clair De Lune

While the city rests under the velvet of skyline , I lie awake to trace a highway of clouds trailing against a lunar pageant, as evening shadows alter different time zones throughout the universe's frame-- while ambrosial rawness enters my pores from the fondle of this waxing red-ball. Oh Clair de Lune...there is something mysterious about your portrait of near midnight: amiable... dangerous, and carnal ; just ripe for my heart to listen as nocturnal larks trill a serenade-- each note ready to multiply into hundreds of minutes; that such orb's mystery remains unanswered by all creatures anticipating a new moon's rhapsody gradually simmering like your allured chant which flames upon lovers' clandestine rendezvous. For Craig Cornish: Claire De Lune Revised, new poem 8/7/2018