Moonlight Delights Poem by Mark Heathcote

In her hands, her new beau will be smelt
adrift, turned around, a new cast, swanlike
on-a-black lake intercepted and paired.
Soon she'll entwine with him unladylike.

Henna-tattooed hands outfitted like ferns
awaited him before the dawn-first-light
ankles bangle dancing in butter churns,
ghee in unexpected, moonlight delights.

Every kiss was a cloistering silken, web
she feared this tenderness, struggle breaks
every touch does a serpentine snowflake
-melt, slip and fall into a hissing lost dissent.

But still swanlike, they're both swooned.
Each with the other when the sun resonates
-all bird songs shall be overshadowed.
Seldom to be understood inarticulate.