O, my crescent lover

By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh

Swaying in the light of our crescent host,

Of our utmost beaming lady,

Who sings to the salmon,

Who radiates through me, empowers

The pitch black sky to dance through the air.

For I find myself to have missed you,

O great beauty that I have transfixed to.

I am but that of some unfortunate, insignificant

Moth, lustful to your light forevermore.


Living life as a nocturnal beast,

Waiting only for your ascent,

As you pull down your fiery brother,

Usurping his throne in the sky.


Longing for the touch of pale silky light,

Your gentle glow upon my eyelids.

Beaming from a void, innocent and pure,

Offering a sweet song into the empty night.


Perched up there amongst the skies,

Wishing and hoping for more to dance,

To twirl and arch up in your milky light.

As with the kiss of a sunrise, you fall,

Chased away by your hot headed kin

and I’m left behind, but I don’t mind,

For I’ll dance in the evening when you return.


Image by Josh Felise.