by Osalam Wosu
Knees pointing up and back on grass
The chance to see her I dare not pass
Anticipating her beauty like that of a highborn lass
Which men of all ages yearn for, gathering en masse.
A glorified steward of the night
Riding with raiment of celestial white
Ruling the dark with a scepter of light
And then submitting to aurorean might.
Insomnia comes with every complete lunation
So I run to gaze once again on this apparition
To look on you and your guards, the stars; a tradition
I have that is subject to eternal repetition.
From waning to a waxing crescent
The cycle you take so decent
During your heavenly ascent
Returning to Him from whom you were sent.
Forebearer of the orb that constitutes the day
For a while longer I wish you’d stay
And with your reflection in the water I’d play
Till when our goodbyes we’d say.
A dusky night rides down the sky, ushering in the morn
With the sun just above the ears of corn
Leaving me sad and utterly forlorn
And the memory of our little date, torn.
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