Sol’s the hot shot (pun intended)
But she’s got beauty, understated
Soft and warm and dark and deep
Looking down with syncopated
Beams of dancing light a-twinkle
Glowing, muted, saturated.
She’s a lovely little lady
Hides her faces as she pleases
Deals in blood and wrath and then
As the sun, his burning breezes
Gasped into the daylight fading
She the gloaming moment seizes.
Her domain of peace and beauty
Fills with female aura, wholly
She’s a girl’s girl, Luna, warrior
Takes the night and makes it holy
Calls repose of women sacred
Lifts the shepherdesses lowly
Grants a glowing crown of starlight
Kisses eyes closed to the toiling
As bodies rest, but not completely,
Always hearing and uncoiling
Infant cries throughout the night
Youth and beauty long despoiling
Luna etches lines of age
And care on women syncopated
With her phases, working night
And working day as she, fixated;
We together with the moon
Against a Sun who’s never sated,
Never to her obligated,
Ever to her consecrated.