Last Nights

Raucous wails jostles the air,
Shudders run down the spine,
And the nearby premonitories
Barring a welcome horizon.
Though, huddled next the open fire,
Thralled by the ballet of dainty flames,
The spirit is beaming, laughing at the
Temptations that cloud vision and alertness.

The delectable unfaltering Evening Star
Holds a vigil while this seasoned body
Is bathing in the silvery waters of the
Moon.

Long before the Empress of the Sky
Summons its congregation to rebirth,
Wisdom's lonesome and ever doling
Child reigns over its fertile orchard
That buds into opulence between
Dusk and dawn.


Comments

Anonymous said…
Very beautiful, and entirely fitting with the season. :) There's always a melancholy this time of year that most folks strive to keep at bay with lights, festivities and jollity. But the wheel turns, the sun comes again, and we forget to be sad til next time.
30 December 2015 at 08:03
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