Beauty's Moon-Mad Spell Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Did you not discern that your beauty revealed
In deep-black curls, dark eyes and perfect form
Glimpses from an idyllic alien world
Where the maddened moon gives slip the storm?

Did you not understand that male reaction
Is shallow in such heady matters
As men must reject too much perfection
Fearing sorcery from the sacred huntress?

Did you sense hope run-down and killed by grace?
That you had been cursed as a moon-lover:
Set to roam the winds in lonely chase
As stricken hearts broke out and ran for cover -

That none would linger in the dawn's new light
So skies could clear and warm the chastened night.



[for the English Novelist and Writer Rosamond Lehmann 1901 - 1990]