Friday, 11 May 2018

Moon Madness!

Moon Madness!
Moon madness has o'er-come the hares, and they dance, all alone, or in pairs.
To the spry cricket's croon, caught, in thrall, to the moon, and the ghostly mist rides, on the air.
And their toe-pads tamp dewed grasses, sweet, but the madness has made them replete,
And the scent, of the grass, as they, over it, pass, still does not call, to hares, "Come and eat!"
Now, they jump, at the moon, riding high, in attempt, to join it, in the sky,
And the Moon, as it glows, alone, only, knows, the answer, to strange mystery, "Why?"
And the velvet sky, studded, with stars, twinkles laughter, at hares, from afar,
But the hares, unaware, mesmerized, do not care, that they are amusing the stars!
Donna L. Ferguson Dudley, copyright 2018 5/09/18
Art Judith Yates

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