Our lady of October
Nothing makes me soar like a full October moon.
Not even city lights can diminish her rising glory.
She illuminates the faint wisps of clouds that try to veil her face.
Powerless, they reflect back her glow until she fills the sky.
It’s a perfect night for spirits. Ghosts. Mysteries.
Erotic love.
Soul-bending erotic love.
Shivering naked on the cool, damp earth.
Sharply outlined in her dispassionate white rays.
Shadowy under the mischievously moving wisps.
Crying out to her face.
Bewitched.
Enchant me again.
While our lady keeps watch.
And spirits roam, seeking a place to lie.
I like this a lot!
Thanks! I wish I had been feeling more inspired . . .
I like this, too. Our full moon was on a clear night, punctuated by swirling gusts of rustling leaves.