Elven Moonlight Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Under the elven moon I lay
Her blue eyes the ice of ire
Tonight she is vulnerable
Her mothers side sweet, wise
The old language of the stars
I whisper elven to her
Red full lips, pale smooth skin
Silk stockings with belts

Oh! Pallid moonlight speak
Turtledoves and grapevines
Bluebells like the grace of rain
The earth conjugates
Wet elven rose petals
Turquoise clouds, yellow ribbons
Scottish mountains sing
Norwegian Queen in royal purple
She rings her golden bell

Utopia in veins of brilliant centuries
Sir Thomas More looks at me
Her ghost ancestry
Vivaldi in my whispers
My elven words are warm
Apple cider and pineapple
My lips meet her joyous sea
Elves dance like serrated tides
Elven moonlight on a bed of Venus