A bit of verse offered in the spirit of the season:
The moon shines bright upon my love,
and she herself becomes a moon:
fair flesh aglow with silver light
kindled by another’s fire.
The moon shines white upon my love
and washes roses from her cheeks.
It turns her coral lips to gray,
her flaxen hair to spider silk.
The moon shines cold upon my love,
on limbs so marble smooth and pale.
Her eyes, now shadowed pools, reflect
a strangely luminescent dark.