Troubadour

August moon, you have no mercy
Troubadour of a sweet melancholy
King of all the silent hidden oceans
Casanova of a roving midnight sea

Tonight I will not fight your silver urging
Or resist each moon-kissed memory
Tonight I’ll give in to a star-lit purging
And drink the wine of tears and ecstasy

August moon, you are smooth operator
My firm resolves melt in your tranquil glow
The memories arranged in perfect order
Lay jumbled like a jig-saw in the snow

August moon, your face shows no emotion
As you tear the lining from my soul
I gaze up at the deep blue full moon ocean
Drowning in a sea out of control

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin