JuPo 8 - (long poem, more syllabics)

Moon Drifting

Selene gathers the wooly,
gray gossamer of clouds
about her pale, Geisha
face on this film-noir
night, uses them to play
peek-a-boo as I ride
the porch swing and lose this
days thoughts. Seduced by her
lunatic rays I can
travel to distant shores,
meet unmet lovers, live
different lives. Her milky
elixir drips on my
tongue; tantalizing, pure,
alive with the power
to control the myriad
direction of my thoughts.

How easy to lose my
self in her slipstream, freed
from the days tedious
cage; how easy to grow
lax as the tea kettle
whistles impatiently
on the stove; how easy
to lose sight of the old,
familiar path back home.

copyright 2006 by cookala