The Gipsy Proffers

The Gipsy proffers—

with outstretched hand the glories of the Moon
of the fading light in the western sky

I hear enchanted thy voice speak whispertales mysteries are not your histories not arcadia of thy dreaming life

Silent in wond’rous Blueblurs of desire

O Seated flow’rollingpearl blur my thoughts with thy cold wetdelights in bleed in Spring where twilight veils this living pearl of light;

 

The Enchanters’ Moon proffers—

My lunatic soul its mysteries Her siren soul its wisdom

while she holding the sky in her hands she drifts, dreaming, we too soon silent western sky sink soft away in her bower dreaming

And with the western sky sink soft away
All who lie beneath wake the echoes
of the human heart that loved while she floats above us in labyrinths of darkness holding Sorrows and Delights Dancing, laughing, weaving. Possessing no fear, she drifts.

Dreaming the night dying stars sing

 

The Sorcerers’ Moon proffers—

That which the full Solstice Moon foretells:

O Goldenmoon
I hear thy songriseSilent voice speak of Sorrows

O Brokenmoon
I hear thy magical voice speak of Mysteries

O Philosophicmoon
I hear thy Pensive voice speak of Passions

O Fevermoon
I hear thy Spring voice speak of Science

O Godmoon
I hear thy sweet voice speak of Solstice

O Fullmoon
I hear thy twilight voice speak of Truth

Lingering long in dreamy reverie on the threshold of our time alone she steals with swift step to that Tomorrow where Time shall cease

Her dreams flutter, drenched in light. Wrought with purple fever. She drifts. Dreaming the night. Dreaming

and steals the twilight lunar languages of the poet’s heart

as Moon as the Gipsy-nymph descends

and dwindled light that ebbs and flows sinks sinking dies

of happiness dreaming the night

lunatic-tranced dream

by her