Often I'm Like Some Noisy Raccoon Poem by Mark Heathcote

My spirit is in its solar eclipse
It is fulfilling to think, not posture.
This ascension isn't an apocalypse.
It's a time my muse takes an adventure.
And listens to all my seven chakras
Sitting here with the goddess of the moon
I enter into her poetic trance.
And align within some mystic harpoon.
Often I'm like some noisy racoon.
But occasionally, she takes pity
And my own words meet hers on honeymoon.
Those moments feel now distinctly princely.
For when they are fewer and far between
I feel like a king bereft of his queen.