Serene Selene

Be not ashamed that your light is borrowed

You owe no debt to the smug, swollen sun

Thoughtless and profligate, long has he glowed

All reigns will end that were in time begun

Sweet, silent, silver sentinel, you rule

The night, which is far cooler than the day

The sun can burn and boil and be most cruel

To you, nocturnal voices sing and pray

The lungs of loping, lupine lords love you

All poets dip their quills in your bright well

Only you can tell tales the tides deem true

No womb resists your urgent, monthly spell

Many are the soft smiles you've blessed me with

When doubt and pain made the night seem hostile

To me, your power is no mere, quaint myth

This humble song pays tribute to your style