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