Under the Magic of the Moon

the moon, a shade of pink

not yet at its highest

still low enough to touch

to brush with the most tender of grazes

the meadow, a dance floor

the gentle touch of the wind, intoxicating

the trees teased by its breeze

me, dressed by the sparkle of the moon

silly girl, mythical creatures are not real

but I am real

and I see them

am I the monster or the fairy?

have my intentions disrespected the moon?

snap out of your wicked, you self-sabotaging girl

move with the spell, the love from the moon

flow with the nearby creek, glowing with enchantment of her light

mushrooms filled this meadow with magic

the fairies cling to the trees’ branches; twinkle lights

the sweet creatures gather for tea

the fox bring delight

the ravens keep watch; I am unafraid

the wolves chase out harm

my senses flutter

broken

could the moon ever be broken?

the moon reflects

fix yourself, girl

the moon is full

how dare you say you love the moon

when you harm your own vibrations

casting spells with my fingers

the meadow moves with me

the trees entangle us with a breeze

the fairies and the creatures and their tea

surrender

continue dancing fully in the moon’s dance

become tangled in the meadow

be poisoned by the breeze’s tease

move with the trees

rejoice in the moon’s lovely shades of light

out of body, dark but bright

time not passing

comfort from the still

peace in the human solitude

deep from the mind

to the moon do I owe this pleasure

rejoice in the dance

dance with the meadow

dance with the trees

may you never come down from this magical night

it was love made to the moon

an entrancing ode to the magic of the moon