Rubicund Treats

She was a gourmet moon going down
Into the multi layered west,
Wearied now, of that shadow play
Of ancient ecliptic renown
Where all the lycanthropes are blessed
Well past the daylight dream array
In an unduly brief siesta nap,
Too bright for any ghoulish dreams,
Who love more the soft skies of night,
For drifting in the celestial map,
Or to play upon downy lunar beams
When gargoyles have taken flight
To see for themselves a bleeding moon
Commanding a noctilucent mist
Forbidden within the solar breezes
Of handmaid meridian noon,
Who only by hot Phoebus is kissed,
But only as his heat pleases...
As poor noon is ever being deprived of,
A spirited menu of midnight love!