Three Word Wednesday

Puppet Master

Hovering as a prop o'er a theatre stage
Romeo's pondering, what light is there?
hanging heavy in the heavens
invisible threads hold the sphere

moving oceans with its strength
moving hearts to stand and stare
its luster steals the hidden light
of the sun's secret glare

The threat of moonlit madness lies
beneath the surface of the soul
lulled to lust and love and dance
excited by the lunar pull

Lovers hide in secret corners
mothers birth in hidden beds
witches dance to seek her favour
following the path the moon beam leads

Passions flare and senses heighten
when her greatness hovers near
children laugh and cry with fervor
there's nothing in the moon to fear

Hovering like a theatre prop
inconstant moon it envies nothing
master of the dancing puppets
as her solar lady sits in waiting




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Comments

Sylvia said…
It is a magnificent poem. I love those moonlit nights. So romantic, walking in the beach under the moonlight!... God, where are the beaches? Where is the moon?
You've captured the mystery and will of the moon in this. I like it.
I rather enjoy the idea of the moon hovering over us, tugging us this way and that like a puppet master. The other night was a full moon, and everything certainly went a bit nutty around here... that trickster moon maiden!
Debbie said…
very awe inspiring!!!!