March, march on, the moon of March is a muse in the air,
Call me Marcia as April dances to the moon song, a melody rare.
And as this girl dances, midnight snow blankets the silent ground,
A hushed beauty in the moon glow, her song is a serene surround.
May whispers secrets under the full moon in the midnight breeze,
A metamorphosis, then June joins the dance as the moon changes with ease.
Midsummer mobile, as these three girls march in the gentle night,
April, May, and June, like stars that shimmer, like the moon, in light’s
reflection, they are a celestial delight, and with me, they dance.
as they sing in the summer, “Marcia, give lunacy a chance.”
In July the moon holds wealth until August takes it into the fold,
now lost are the moments treasured, and the erudite stories are left untold.
The mistake in September is still a lesson in the lunacy of youth to be learned,
When, dancing under the moon we fall to destinies unearned.
October moon song in the morning is to the baby, like a lullaby sweet,
Echoes of dreams, in the sunrise when moon visions are fleet.
Mornings of mist, dancing with the moon under a mystical veil,
Nature’s secrets under the autumn moon in the morning are pale.
November mornings in the hospital solarium – the moon is not seen.
I woke up in my bed under the moonlight, it was just a dream…
But motherly love remains, the lunar remains Selena’s gentle art,
The moon, as it reflects in the waters below, quivers like a beating heart.
My extravagant heart, like the waning moon in winter, blows up again,
December, waxing in passions wild, larger and larger in love’s terrain.
In January, bursts of emotions, and as the atmosphere changes, a colorful spree,
then February, spent in lunacy, for, in my love for the moon, I find fancy free.