In viewing me, you cannot see the sum of all my parts;
Your eyes can only scan my skin, they can’t discern my heart.
For as the moon in mystery is shrouded from our gaze,
What we observe in others is but one nocturnal phase.
Keep this in mind if others show a less than stellar frame –
Character is more than what one action can proclaim.
As Mistress Moon evolves each night, her beauty ebbs and wanes,
We cannot judge our neighbour’s heart by what his face contains.
She ordered Romeo from
her balcony of happy
endings; what came in the mail
dried dreams to dust, delivered
disillusionment stillborn.
Seeking life in the garden
below reduced love to mere
snake in the grass; unnumbered
shattered crescent moons, galling
tear-stained timekeepers, kept pace
with waning confidence, while
wounds slowly faded, shadows
on the dial. When once she
lifted her head, above thorns
and crafty serpents, True Love
waited there, on silvery
wings. Inhaling sweeter air
gave new dreams fresh purpose; her
songs, sung not from empty purse
but full heart, hold the power
to stir even paradise
lost. From her balcony she
commands nothing, but receives
what the moon delivers as
a legacy wrapped in love.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 