The moon makes you cold
but therein lies its remote wonder
You soon become a devotee
trapped in the grip of its allure
and wondering how it is
that this oft silvery orb
is at once so cold and yet so warm
it leaves many a lover
moonstruck and abstracted
On a leafy night like tonight,
with a tropical moon up on high
dancing phantoms peep through
the gaps in the palm fronds
and the moon woos them
with its promise of worlds unknown
She looks at me face up-tilted, and
eyes consumed with heart-fresh passion
I have a foreboding feeling,
and a fearful certainty of loss
for time the unyielding enigma
promises  you everything
but seldom delivers
what you ordered
in the heat of the moment
Tonight the shadows are dancing
the dance of silhouettes,
ethereal yet as real as the moon that shines
and the stars that beckon
I am a wandering disciple of life's mysteries
recruited on leafy nights such as this one is,
and I'm tied to you  by  an unebbing desire
to plant an idea on your tempting lips
and hear you dispense what my fate is
in this so changed world of our time

this is just to say
you are my
stolen
plum London

and I can't wait
to sink my teeth
into the cool
bruised-light

of a late summer
Saturday
night
*please forgive me…

They said he had a face
Only a mother could love
And the clothes on his
Back were torn.

His skin was pock marked
And his back was bent.
His teeth had rotted
In his head.

But when he sat
At a piano and sang,
The notes reached into
Your ribcage,

Crushing your heart
With an ivory key.
His beauty could bring
You to your knees.