A Potion of Bliss in Poetry

The Moon and Stars
Osculate and kiss
Fake roses
And pure gold
Mix together in bliss
Searching the infinitude
Of wondering souls
Until I find my lost love
My wondering dove

The numinous heavens
Become an astrological prism
Divine inspiration
Evincing souls
The Golden ratio
Pierces the midheavens
Accepting the north node
Everything falls in place
Beau ideal

My memories fade
As the societal panacea
Becomes the pernicious sycophant
Implanting their design
Of melancholy and hate
Love disappears
As animosity surfaces
The heavens shift
And a new design
Begins again