Beneath The Pale Moon

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Ella Fitzgerald “Blue Moon”

Beneath the pale moon she dances
Indeed, I delight in her light source whenever she passes
Like a prima ballerina she twirls
Each time her soft petals unfurl
Fingertips shooting stars to the skies
As she delicately glides with arms open wide
Shifting like quicksilver mist
As her pointed toes kiss the earth beneath
Making that once withered bloom
As sun and moon resume their ode to She
For each footstep taken
She would take once again
Just to dance beneath the pale moon’s delight

Devastating darkness has hearkened advances
Taken its chances at twisting her branches
But akin to the mightiest oak
She weeps to breathe again
These roots they run deep
In their keep is the history of ancients long untold
Set to repeat again
To the nine circles of hell to compel divine comedy
Facilitate sodomy
Then head back to earth to terminate autonomy

The laurel leaves of her regalia are rusted
Dusted with stars and implicitly trusted by night to invite day’s advance
Thrust beneath luminescent light
To reveal the rust in every present scar
Never inert as she hops, skips and bounds
Chasing light orbs as she sanctifies the grounds
Playfully they jostle and sway in the tall grass of chance
And with that my innermost child starts to dance

For She is glass to see right through
A reflection of most perfect imperfection
A vision in Crystalline
Smile cut from diamonds
Spine of barbed thistle
And razor wire eyelids
Rusted with honey and stardust sparkling
Can blacken in a heartbeat
Offer blessing in half that

They undress me bare to the bones of my soul
While a thousand butterflies scatter from the shawl
Resurrected from the ashes of long stolen passion
Consoled by a host of her own which just so happen to match them

I exist at her sole wish as her wishes are mine
Her spilled tears my red wine
Vital fluids my spine
Her face is my reflection
Her course my direction
Each thought masterpiece
Her heartbeat my predilection
As each footstep taken
I would take once again
Just to dance beneath the pale moon by her side

No question, voluntarily bled for She
Would fight to very bloodiest of deaths for She
Willingly surrender final breaths for She
Remaining ever humble in the presence of sweet destiny

Mountains cannot tame us
For the rivers run rose red
Composed to shimmer in our name
While entire constellations glimmer overhead to do the same
Love like ours could never be forsaken
Or facelessly deprived
For each footstep taken
We shall take once again
As we dance beneath the pale moon’s delight

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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