I felt a bit well rounded at the seams,
Moonbeams, jungle themes.
Dust choked, mind broke,
Going through the reams.
Altered states, lactating plates,
In the pale light of Moon dreams.
Blood broke, a token toke,
All is not what it seems.
Babies boiled, plans foiled,
The gargoyle of life teems.
Panties wet, life's a sweat,
Thrilled to your pagan genes.
Take your pick, it's a kick,
Love to hear its screams.
Going through the motions,
Powerful potions, wet jeans.
Moon spoke, I broke,
Captive to dream’s moonbeams.
Photo Courtesy National Park Service
More Poems
My Place
Read War's End, the Novel
Copyright 2005 © Ronald W. Hull
4/16/05
Moon Struck at Full Moon Gathering
Photo Courtesy Anomoly.com
