<span;>Whether the welkin is painted in shades
<span;>of blue or obsidian,
<span;>the moon’s <span;>ethereal<span;> candlelight
<span;>has always dawned a quelling kiss atop
<span;>my often somber laced mind,
<span;>and smiles to eagerly anticipatory eyes..
<span;>… As ” in these moments with you,
<span;>I feel most blessed” my heart graciously chimes..
<span;>No matter the form she takes,
<span;>every supple curve is sheer beauty
<span;>to behold, even when she’s unable
<span;>to be whole.
<span;>And in a <span;>sea of sparkling stars,
<span;>or the company of other celestial
<span;>bodies, none shine brighter
<span;>than the starlet..
<span;>So sacred and heavenly, my beloved
<span;>lullaby in the sky..
Aww. The way you feel about her as a sacred and heavenly is beautiful
Your beautiful and tender ode to la luna is much needed and appreciated by these weary eyes. To sit out late at night beneath her pallid light while the world goes on oblivious, is true poetic medicine. I praise your use of, welkin, something mystical about that word. Gorgeous write, my friend.
Clay