Fool O' the Moon

THE silver-slippered moon treads the blue tiles of the sky,
And I See her dressed in golden roses,
With a single breast uncovered,
The carnation tip of it
Urgent for a lover’s lip.
So she dances to a stately
Beat, with poses most sedately
Taken, yet there lies

Something wanton in her gestures,
And there is surprise of coquetry
In the falling of her vestures.
Out of old mythology,
With a pulse of gourds and sheepskins,
Banging bronze and metal thunders,
There is she,
Wonderfulest of earth’s winders.
As for me,
Head thrown back and arms spread wide
Like a zany crucified,
I stand watching, waiting, gazing,
All of me spent in amazing,
Longing for her wheat-white thighs,
Thirsting for her emerald fire,
My desire Pounding dully from my eyes.
And my hands Clutch and cuddle the vast air
Seeking her where she’s most fair.
On the cool blue tiles of heaven,
She is dancing coolly, coldly,
Footsteps trace a braid of seven,
And her gauzy garments fleet
Round her like a glittering sleet.
Suddenly she flings them boldly
In a streaming bannerall Out behind,
And I see all.
God! I’m blind!
And a goodly company
Of men are we,
Lovers she has chosen,
Laughingstocks and finger-posts
To the wise, a troupe of ghosts
Swelled by every century.
Mad, and blind, and burnt, and frozen,
Standing on a hilly slope
At bright midnight,
And our hope
Is in vain, or is it not?
Legend knows the very spot
Where the moon once made her bed.
But the pathway as it led
Over rock-brows to that valley
Is an alley choked and dead.
One by one our fates deceive us.
One of hundreds will be shown
Ferny uplands whose great bosses
Of tall granite hide the mosses
Where our Lady’s lying prone,
All her stars withdrawn, alone.
So she chooses to receive us,
Out of hundreds, only one.
Such a vale of moss and heather
Spreads about us, hither thither.
Shall I tell what befell
Once behind that bush.
When the rattling pods at noon
Made a music in September.
Shall I say what I remember —
While the long sea-grasses croon,
And the sea-spray on the sand
Chips the silence from the land?
Hush, then, let me say it soon.
I have lain with Mistress Moon.