Sickle Moon Dust

This poem is for the lovers of the moon's light!

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New, blue
half or full.
my favorite, sickle moon.
Spells, trances
emanate from
earth to sky,
pulling me from
worldly thoughts
like tides upon ocean beaches.

Mind filled with glorious
glistening passages,
moon-dust feathers trees,
places dew diamonds on each blade of grass.

Take me under
the sickle moon,
my pulse already quickened.
I must sit atop,
where we're bathed in
rays with rhythm.

My hips will move without command.
The moon, she guides
true lovers.
The slow rise and fall,
draws her light
far up inside us.

When we release together,
the night sky explodes!
The sickle moon sends slender
lustrous light slivers.

We'll glide and drift down each,
celebrating our glow
from riding the breathtaking
sickle moon light.