Feast Of Summer MoonsA Poem by Eve
Tonight and all over the earth,
there is merriment.
Cocky birds will dance
at maske and vest.,
and many times at best
I have dreamt of this
in sadness
still to awake with laughter
within my breast.
and yet
beyond these lids
and lashes,
the world is
still our oyster,
whether it be hailed
by sighing violins
or paired by
charmed footsteps.
Madame Butterfly;
my cupid kills in arrows
and so grieves her;
her Puccini,
should love speak
beyond a reasonable
torment of expectation.
Let her feast then
beneath the moons
soft with light and
with souls as bright
as sunlight, brilliant
upon the water
bound not
by counterfeits of passion,
having railed
so long at love,
that it does seem to
have become a habit.
Whisper again
to a virgin night,
that dreams with
eyes wide open,
and sails to a song within.
Love is ancient and ageless and
hearts will remain young
forever,
for which men and women
will hunger,
because, amor ,
sweet amor
is a feast and
fit for summer moons.
© 2012 EveFeatured Review
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Added on February 9, 2008Last Updated on June 28, 2012 |