Blood Moon

Blood moon,
O, sun-halogenated bulb!
Sublunary loons swear and swoon
Your red blushes flood
The late twilit noon
In hot menstrual flushes of blood!

But blood moon!
In your earth-orbited race
I think you run out of skied space
Much too fast cloud-apace
And star-apace much too soon!

O, Muse of Poesy,
Bide my time!
Stay passion-blooded with one
Whose verse is done
Bequeathing the world his rhyme!

Poet’s Note:
To ‘End-days Christians’ a blood moon is one sign heralding the end of the world. This poet begs to differ! To him, the blood moon, is regrettably, too short-lived a natural but beautiful event  and an opportunity to invoke it as the Muse of poesy!  This poem is dedicated to 15 year old Destiny Hay of Cross City, Florida. She is active on High on Poems and aspires to be a poet of import. Good luck Destiny! I hope you will in time bequeath the world some of its finest poems!  The last verse in Blood Moon is written with your aspiration in mind!

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