My madonna of the moonlit skies ~
She sails across the skies, but not upon the horn of moon
Her waxen wane is but the yellow of her hair
Its windswept waves to set the sea advancing.

The sapphire light within her eyes has caught
the azure blueness of the Summer skies
She danced there upon the daisy tops
To sway and nod beneath her twinkling feet,
Her veil of flowing gossamer, of a thistle’s wing.

And from a borrowed thrush’s throat, her
lilted voice, I hear her sing her song of
love to me ~ a song of songs.
And from my beating heart my voice cries out my love,
For I would be a part of thee.

This thing of song and wind and Summer sky
For I would blend my soul with all of this ~
To feel the daisies nod beneath my feet,
Or touch the yellowed moon upon its horn.

And from my throat a thrushes song would rise
And I’d become the azure in a Summer sky.

By Ernest L. Norman

Excerpt from The Anthenium