I raise my face to the moon,
To feel her light wash over me.
I crave her, as she floats
So pure, so brightly
Above me.
I can feel her tender touch,
Brushing lightly upon my skin,
Sending messages of desire
To my loins.
She comes down,
Her hair floating wildly about her face,
So beautiful, so calm,
As she lands before me.
She smiles, but she often smiles,
In a way that is both beguiling
And innocent.
I take her into my arms,
Kiss her passionately,
My tongue seeking hers.
She moans, and I am lost.
I lift her, carry her,
(For she is weightless in my arms)
To the sacred grove,
Where I will love her,
Where I will awaken
The next morning,
With the sun beaming down upon me,
Spreading light over my naked form,
As I remember the dream of the night,
And look forward to the moon,
Coming to me again.