Solstice Moon
Her milky, placid orb peers o’er tan hills
As fades the mustard flame of father’s hate
Cool succor soothes sharp burns where rage did spill
His blinding cruelty will at last abate
Our blistered skin, bleached bones white, hills afire
This eve, his fevered madness starts to break
Grim Solstice marks the peak of father’s ire
Soft sunset’s silken shroud engulfs our aches
Sun’s dark flight, burning guilt now gone from sight
His dusty, wild siroccos brought to calm
This night's repose, world bathed in velvet light
Pale, tranquil seas of Moon’s face like a balm
Pearlescent clouds drift mute across her sphere
Fair promise of monsoons, their healing tears
6/22/16
Shakespearean, Mostly Iambic Pentameter
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