Shining through, the lonely lady of night
Like a cyclops, sees
Every indecent proposal
Posted to a disgusted face.
Under the cherry moon, one bright
Spring night, she tossed a rose
To the heap awaiting garbage disposal.
You see it was a case
Of unrequited love; how wrong so right,
There the meaningless token,
Awakening no arousal
Of appreciation for a vase,
Was cast away out of her sight.
Cocktail breathed a sigh of relief,
The color of night was lethal,
An assault of sensitivities at base.
Fifty shades of grey just might
Be, the perfect hue of that moon global.THAT MOON © gillena cox 2022