A June moon,

full, fat, bright,

teasing me in a striptease

to the stars.

A honey moon,

thick with mead and strawberry.

I sang

dragon songs

to raven trees

as blood clouds

lit up the sky.

Innocence played in the grove

amongst the rhododendrons,

reaching up the red bark

of giant redwoods,

climbing holly trees

and chasing globes

of setting sunlight

as they danced

through the green glade.

Fox gloves off,

my log clamped

firmly under arm,

I gathered elder flowers

to make fresh summer tea

and drink the full moon in.

Down by the

temple to Epona,

a great egret started

as I crossed the bridge,

white wings gliding

over the soft sounds of

Meanna who sang

her water words of joy

towards Mid-Summer.

As a bat circled overhead,

the moon now bared all,

titillatingly naked,

the lusty lady of the Downs

ready for her honey

moon mead to

wet the flesh

of lovers

as they sank

into the long, damp grass

of June.

SCM 2019