Mother Night, Mistress Moon Poem by Christopher McInnes

When pregnant Night descends, her darkling robe
enfolds me softly in its cool embrace
and sparkling starry babies fill the globe,
while midwife Moon looks on with beaming face.
Though daylight fuels my ardour for the Sun,
I still cannot resist Night's female charms,
seducing me to sleep with her as one,
encircling me with restful, dusk silk arms.
And while day lord Apollo burns more bright
and noon-time's light shines deeper in my eyes,
my heart longs for the mystery of Night,
the starflecked secrets of nocturnal skies.
Sun-warmed or moon-lit, by night or by day,
love is just love, it is not straight or gay.