'Til Again I Dream Tonight

Poets write across the ages
('long with all the wisest sages)
idylls of the sun's bright glory,
and the moon's e'er dismal plight.

All the sun's, they say, has glory,
telling ne'er a dismal story,
but with pity view fair Luna
sorrowfully every night.

All the bards and love-struck princes,
as the moon's White Dance commences,
sing of love unto their ladies
underneath the moon's pale light.

I myself do find her dancing,
and entourage of stars enchanting
wheeling, whirling, round her white face,
sparkling, twinkling, in the night.

All the night her ballad singing
with all earthen creatures bringing
further music to the Night Ball,
playing 'neath the silvery light.

All the prophets then upstarting
at the music that is starting
sing out portents to the heavens,
out unto the starry night.

All the music that she imparts
rises e'en to Heaven's ramparts;
thence the gods enjoin the chorus,
resounding with unnatural might!

Paramours of Zeus surceasing,
with the music e'er increasing,
rising ever to crescendo
as the cosmos dance all night!

Alas! with now the sunshine rising,
all the music compromising,
all the gods now stop their playing,
racing on and out of sight.

All the crickets chirping, creaking,
then a whisper-- thence unspeaking,
as the dawn is rising, rising,
until morning's shining light.

Now the Moon, her dancing ended,
all the stars of night rescinded;
now all mortal dreams have ended,
dashed away by morn's twilight!

Now arising from my dreamland,
pulled, it seems, by still unseen hands,
all my dreams must be postponed now--
'til again I dream tonight!




-D.B.