Not Until

Growling like a tiger,

howling at moonbeams,

tripping the light fantastic,

fantastic in your blue jeans.

Up where shadows lurk in eaves

you bite them off and spit out the leaves.

Rave on you moon-kissed creature

you moon-crazed Technicolor feature.

Dance on opalescent rainbows,

traverse clouds on fairy-wing tiptoes.

Paint the sky rustic rustling rust

and revel in dazzling dayglo lust.

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust?

Not until we absolutely must.