Mooning over her dawn

The day is closing its weary arms
in a humble defeated bow
to the darkness creeping upon it
with the stealth of a friend for a backstabber
gnawing from the front

The moon she alights: quirky , all smiles
cherubic in her guise of white simplicity
she quivers with anticipation
the night beckons
with sheafs of urgent darkness
wolves howl echoes to the winds' ragged breath.

In her stolen silent light,
the ugly revel
thwarted in daylight, set free
by the pitch murkiness of a night
feeble footed bats
pesky scrambling rats
wide-eyed owls
snarling wolves
lovers entwined
figures distorted
as shadows play
rude games with her light.

She stares below
condescending
haughty
anguish highlighting dark blotches
where ebony fingers tarnish the ivory.

She fervently awaits
for her light-bathed knight
for whom golden hues dance
for whom her light pales in a sigh
for whom holding her breath
prolongs the agony
of another love-washed wishful night

Dawn cracks,
she reigns him in by the fragile thread of flattery
he is the king of dawn
the slave of the moonlight
he blooms as she fades
ending the darkness
and her night of glory
she blushes into oblivion
reveling in his triumph
as he rides in, supreme,
a sore second to her charm.