Lazuline Luna!

There was soft focus filtration on high
To dull the rare state of a moon so blue
That it shone all the more August true
In the summer wilderness of a sky
Aglow more than the Olympian wings
Blinking constant in the contrail trace
Just this side of our outermost space
As some intermittently chiffon strings,
So eager to blend with natural clouds
They often cross their elevated streaks
More than strict ecumenical Greeks
Who chastened the more credulous crowds
To look later in each month to check...
If the blue was full...or only a speck.