The Moon at Perigee
Lapping in the frigid sea,of faith and mediocrity, a blending that can never really be;
roiling in the turgid lee of chaotic fears and animality;
of sacred rites when patterns flee, I see: The Moon at Perigee!
Argent in its glowing mane, silvery white reflective pane;
casts a glow of loving light,
that rouses longing - a full moon night; fain,
I wish to bask in its glow, its magic rays race the warm heart flow,
that brings me to peace again;
whence does glittering rains of light to please,
with: The Moon at Perigee?
As it gathers light, absorbs its might,
from the soothing sun, an orb in perehelion,
miles from Earth at apogee,
to sling shot back to hill and dale
where all humans run, I exult, even in the vale
and in majestic mountains ease;
illumines every tract of sapient land
Oh: The Moon at Perigee.
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