Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Dawn Ascendant

Another dawn,
Another day painted in glimmering pastels
Low-lying grass bowing under a string of pearly dew-drops, 
And the sun, ripe and heavy as the oranges
In the orchards Bartholomew used to own,
Tangled in the branches in its heaven-bound quest. 

Another sunrise,
Another morning glittering pink and gold with promise,
Leaves sprawled over the far-away horizon in lazy fractals,
And the moon, pale and sparkling,
Bidding the world a quiet farewell

As the sun at last ascends, victorious. 

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