Autumnal Beckoning

A Poem by Michelle Gent

My take on the Harvest Moon

Autumnal Beckoning-

Harvest moon
veiled partially in fog
hazed in a citron glow
Your mystique precedes you

Hauntingly hypnotic
Your heart beats and pulse surges
Beckoning all that's beneath you

You control the pounding
and crashing of the waves
Tides bow down at your feet
And rise at your discretion

Witches hold court,paying tribute to you
Shedding their clothes and inhibitions
Dancing to the beat of your rhythm

- Wolves howl frantically in forlorn angst
- Vultures in waiting, promenade
- Trick-or-treaters with less restraint go in for the kill

Hoarding as much confectionary contraband
As their tiny hands can possibly carry
Harvest moon sets the mood
For a magical mystical season