This Lady is a Moon
The stars put on the same old twinkle, twinkle
Every night
But she takes off her velvet wrap
Curve by curve,
Then stands in the spotlight--
Still, iridescent and nude.
This public face winks at her fans,
But her smile is a thin disguise.
Can you see the scars on her soft cheeks
Where critics have thrown hard things at her?
Wise old owls ask "Who? Who are you?"
Wolves and maniacs beg to see,
But she keeps her private side for only me.
She sends me love notes, too--
Not in tossed bottles,
But riding waves kissing sand.
I read her ebb and flow in the tides
Lapping code upon the shore.
She followed me home last night
Quietly as smoke drifting through the trees.
To light the street?
To tease my dreams?
Who can tell?
But I liked walking,
Wrapped in her big-eyed glow...
Copyright 2001 Billy Dean
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