Seasons Of Full Moon

By Dr Smita Sriwastav

(i) When shivering nights huddled beneath foggy opacity of the mist’s quilt, echo with shrill lupine calls, an opal moon casts silver apparitions on snow-dunes, painting eucalyptuses in sighs of argent memories, as wizened fingers try to ease warmth into frozen limbs.

(ii) Snowflakes whisper psalms to atheist storm clouds grumbling at chilly touch of Boreas, caressing powdered arms of trees in prayers, that will bud into chartreuse blessings in springtime, a glutton moon yearns to taste honeyed sunshine beyond the threshold of ughten, warming arthritic limbs.

(iii) Thawing snow prophesies blooming artless daffodils, like scented giggles of a cherub, cawing crows foretell drawing end of inglenook eventides and mornings perfumed in wafting warmth of eggnog lattes, a mixed feelings moon peers down to smell blossoming beginnings of spring.

(iv) Blushing as nubile maiden like a tint of cerise dawn on night, the moon reflects hues of nascent spring blooms~ herb moss pink and wild phlox, fishes throng upstream rivers, and it is emblazoned on night sky as epilogue of dying winter, kisses of frost glow as sun-dust freckles on windows, left by setting pink moon on clarity of spring morns.

(v) Earth abounds in fragrant flowers overflowing spring’s basket, cows in pastures over-brim cauldrons of milkmen, moon is a luscious bowl of cream slowly lapped away by celestial feline in dark nights, named after the hare, it is symbolic of prolific May~ the month of fragrance, when butterflies in brocades feast on nectarine mocktails.

(vi)

Strawberries ripen in pouring tequila sunshine, as aspirations on stalks of existence, roses bloom in rapture as redolent susurrus of summer, the moon breathes deep to inhale a scented blend of sweet strawberries-- reminiscent of jams and pies and the romance of roses seen in lovelorn eyes, scented in lovers’ stolen kisses.

(vii)

Bipolar moods of weather sweat brine from heat worn brows, wreathing frowns on azure of burrowed grey clouds, trumpeting the advent of tempest, the sheepish moon is drenched in rain as it tries to use clouds as parasols, while rain-songs are strewn on puddles changing them into rain-chimes.

(viii)

Sturgeons crowd river beds as a reddish moon yearns for a taste, of aromatic fish curry brewed in a kitchen of delicious dreams, the corn is juvenile yet not ready for harvest, so lunar appetite must be appeased by meals of seasoned sturgeons, ripened mangoes lure the gaze of voyeur moon, as it salves sunburns of earth blistered by sweltering sunshine.

(ix)

Ripened crops are harvested in bright sheen of pouring moonlight exuberance, as autumnal equinox draws near covering dust trails in burnished desires~ mottled in russet and tangerine, denuding trees of their humility and soft rustling, verdure, while a moody moon perches on skeletal boughs, watching splattered water colors of fall.

(x)

Hunters track their prey in honeydew amber radiance of a moon alit closest to earth’s bosom, leaves pepper soil in cinnamon sighs-- watching spilled blood and withering foliage, the moon watches autumn mature, its nostrils filled in piquant potpourri sighs and taste of apple cider lingering on its silver tongue.

(xi)

Frost covers the wrinkles of silver moon yearning on chilly nights, for pints of whiskey-warmth and steaming cups of cappuccinos ~painting froth mustaches on upper-lips, it rubs benumbed fingers together as beaver traps are set to attain warm fur for impending snow. armchairs are laved in honeyed glow of cackling hearth flames, while a shy moon scatters poetic epistles in November chill~ scribing silent nights in sonnets.

(xii)

Nights are stretched longer

as an aging sun sleeps more, leaving

the moon to cuddle within cloudy blankets

in snow-kissed chill of night,

wispy snowflakes are kisses

of moonlight floating in the cold,

while a frostbitten moon

waits impatiently for

virgin kiss of mellowed sunrays

and for hot broth

to clear its clogged throat

at a much awaited breakfast…

By Dr Smita Sriwastav