(Poem #19 on new numbering scheme)
The almost-full, white moon sighs. Riotous, ravenous green spring writhes, a flock of white petals flies, to resist it seems unwise.
I poetized (poeted? poetated?) that while walking home from work. The poem more-or-less follows the pattern of the Welsh poetic forms called englynion. Specifically, it’s an englyn unodl union (according to wikipedia).