The Mudpool and the Moon
Once upon a time, a man drank long and deep with Bacchus and his crew.
He danced home on unsteady feet and caught a glimpse of you.
Oh, Mistress Moon, mystery in white
Love caught in a pool of light
He blinked and you were gone
Because the moon had drifted on
The man bereft, his love no more
Gone the magic he saw before
I looked at him
I looked at you
To whom should he stay true?
The mudpool or the moon?
The mudpool or the moon?
He danced home on unsteady feet and caught a glimpse of you.
Oh, Mistress Moon, mystery in white
Love caught in a pool of light
He blinked and you were gone
Because the moon had drifted on
The man bereft, his love no more
Gone the magic he saw before
I looked at him
I looked at you
To whom should he stay true?
The mudpool or the moon?
The mudpool or the moon?
After the Party
Originally published on my blog as a #fridayflash fiction
The Lizard People
Previously unpublished