Le Loup

Full Moon Over Savannah

This is the way the moon looked over my house tonight. I only wish my iPhone’s camera had been able to capture the shadows and craters.

He walks in the light, lank and long

Losing himself among the throng.

His smile, his eyes are full of charm.

His dress and manner do not alarm.


He behaves pleasantly with all he sees.

Friends and neighbors speak well of he

Who keeps the letter of village law,

The bright of eye and strong of jaw.


By day he keeps good company,

Blending and mixing seamlessly

With all who come into his sight,

And he remains jolly well into the night.


He is known throughout the place

Both by his name and by his face

For honor and patience and courtesy.

There is none found any gentler than he.


For months I had heard of this quiet man,

Who so many wished would take their hands.

So I watched all day and watched in hope.

And still he remained outside of my scope.


Then I stopped my search for such a man,

For the one whom all do call Lucan.

Never did I expect to find him–

The one who embodied my every whim.


And still I dreamt both day and night

of him who seemed to evade my sight

Till one morning I happened by chance

To step within Fate’s lovely dance.


And so across my path he came.

It was he of legend, Lucan his name.

With just one look he froze me fast.

Through my skin, his eyes looked past.


He sent his stare deep into my soul,

And in my heart, wild love took hold.

He stopped my breath with his smile,

And it held me there with him awhile.


Then he left without goodbye,

Saying he hoped to see me nigh.

He came and kept his word to me,

With his presence he graced me thrice weekly.


Each time we met ‘twas as before.

He was always reluctant to pass through my door.

Not once he went without catching my eye,

Holding my gaze with depths bluer than sky.


Yet then he came not; neither day nor evening

Did he appear through darkness beaming.

Six days more he stayed from my sight;

None was there to brighten my dark night.


And then he returned to friends and home

Without a word as to where he did roam.

So I was happy and worried the same,

Yet how could I ask–on him was no claim.


We were companions as yet, naught more,

Though he did not know the secret I bore.

His eyes had caught me in some kind of spell,

And he did not fathom its depth, I could tell.


Until one eve we met ‘neath the trees

A few weeks since, and I found no ease.

I longed to ask of him why and where

He had gone the week that gave me a scare.


Instead we stood and watched the day die

And talked as the light faded out of the sky.

I felt something new in the touch of his gaze

And in the half-light his blue eyes blazed.


He moved me quick within his grasp

And close about me he did clasp

His arms around so strong so tight

And kissed me then as I longed he might.


Lucan’s touch bound his soul to me.

T’was then I knew I could never be free.

Neither did I want to escape his embrace

Nor halt the hands that kept touching my face.


Above our heads a grey cloud shifted,

But from his face, my eyes never lifted

‘Til light surrounding us did show,

Up in the black sky, the moon’s bright glow.


Suddenly Lucan gasped as in pain,

And pulled away as he whispered my name.

Then I looked up and was startled to see

How wolven his features had come to be.


He backed away slowly, as if he was stunned,

And eyeing me sharply, he began to run.

I stood alone, never moving a limb,

Shaking and scared– what happened to him?


Needing to stay and aching to go,

Where was he headed, I wanted to know.

At last the moonlight had all gone away,

And I knew the sun was bringing in day.


Then I moved from the place he’d left me alone.

Such sadness within me I had never known.

Now I reckoned the reason he tended to shy

From all the ladies who might want him as I.


I knew as well down deep in my bones

That from me my Lucan was forever gone.

But my lonely loup had not his lost life,

For I’d keep his secret no matter the strife.


Because he had given his soul with his kiss,

Lucan, the man, I would always miss.

And yet, I knew too that he would be there

Each time I saw the moon’s bright glare.


I find him now, too, in the dark of the deep

When others are resting so peaceful in sleep.

Surrounded by stars and the old hooting owl,

I wait in the night to hear his lone howl.

©2006 by Kerri L. Bennett


One thought on “Le Loup

  1. At first I thought this was going to be an extended metaphor about the moon itself–then I realized that Lucan was probably a werewolf. It’s a beautiful poem either way! 🙂

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