“Can you reveal, my darling, a surprise about the Moon?”

SSShhh!

Can you keep a secret?

One only six people in

Papua, New Guinea

already understand?

On the night

of the New Moon

in April

when the evening

slow dances

with the stars

Pour out a jigger

of rum

onto a circle

of stones

Then ask

the Hidden Moon

to reveal

her given name

She will whisper it

deliberately

into your sleeping

left ear

Hold her finger

to your lips

while she silently utters

“Hush”

Leaving only

an indentation

above your upper lip

as evidence of

your Joint Conspiracy

(Copyright 2021)

“Darling, my darling, has the Moon revealed its dreams to you?”

Once

when the Earth was quite old

and I was quite young

The Moon pressed liquid lips

up against

my sleeping ear

More kiss than whisper

voice soft

with the lunago

of secrecy

“I have only one dream

revealed when blue

Tonight, oh my darling, I

tell it to you”

Fish in my veins

Lips sewn in silence

The indentation above them

where Moon placed her finger

before she sighed

“Hush”

(Copyright 2021)

“Darling, what do you think is the Moon’s opinion of love?”

The Moon is a

hapless romantic

drenched to the stone

with every nuance of love

She crochets the emotion

into each breath

Whistles the essence of it

with every rotation

Massages the sweet perfume

of its name

into the Night

Forever in love

with Love

(Copyright 2021)

“Why do you think, my darling, that the Moon never drifts away from Earth?”

Moon is Earth’s new puppy

leashed on an infinite

Solar System walk

headed all over the world

forever

(Copyright 2021)

“Darling, my darling, whatever does the Moon collect?”

When Earth adopted Moon

as her personal pet

she gave the Moon a gift

a shiny gold fanny pack

Inside was the

lingering last breath of

Tyrannosaurus Rex

The Moon was besotted

adding to the gilded pouch

with every revolution

Sonatas of salmon

during a prolific spawn

Unspoken whispers

of certain

Ural Mountain peaks

The third string from

the World’s

oldest balalaika

Unscented dreams

of a Minnesota badger

The final elusive bit of a

Gobi mirage

The aroma of indigo

from the Ocean’s

Mariana Trench

(Copyright 2021)

“My darling, tell me about the Storm Moon, please.”

February is the

erratic toddler of

the calendar

Immature, irritable

impulsive, irrational

Pitching fits

Napping oddly

The Queen of Satellites

dons her mantle

of Storm Moon

To distract and appease

the imp of February

Showering it with a

weighty blanket

of heavy snow

Radiating storm through

her Prism of Night

(Copyright 2021)

“Who do you think is the Beau of La Luna, my darling?”

La Luna’s Beau

is an exotic enigma

A volatile nomad for

the Queen of Night to choose

It gives me pause

when I ponder the

attraction

Consider all possibilities

in the Cosmos of Love

Yet every four years

without fanfare or failure

the Night is ablaze

as La Luna snags

the Comet’s tail

before Haley

philanders away

(Copyright 2021)

“What does the Moon envy about the Earth, my darling?”

One would expect

it would be water

unique possession

that sustains

all life

But I have heard

the whispers of

poets and madmen

openly reveal

that the streak of envy

in Moon’s ancient core

revolves around language

Gift of words

whispered in the mouth

written in dark ink

The hook upon which

Memory is hung

(Copyright 2021)

“What do you suspect, my darling, is the Moon’s choice of music?”

I have heard it told

by shamans and mystics

that when the Moon is New

hidden from the Sun

She sits cross-legged

naked in the dark

eyes closed

small accordion between her hands

reveling to traditional gypsy songs

flung far into the Universe

(Copyright 2021)

“Have you ever tried Moonology, oh my darling?”

Pre-heat unseen New Moon

Have faith

It is there

When Waxing Crescent Moon appears

like a paranthesis in the night

Remove your secret wish

from under the bed

Season to taste

Wrap in tin foil

Place wrapped desire

outside your front door

When the Moon is Full

your desire is half-baked

Turn it sideways

Recite your favorite song lyrics

over the top

at the completion of

the Fatted Moon

When the Moon resembles

Van Gogh’s severed ear

mark your wish as garbage

to prevent pilfer or damage

The cycle of Magic is now complete

Open the foil

careful not to lose any juice

Consume your wish with

a nice glass of Merlot

(Copyright 2021)