The upward-swing arc
Of my sweetest longing
Leads to that sacred place
Where joyful singing abound
Chatoyant is my Chrysoberyl cat’s eyes
Which see afar. My Argus-eyed gaze,
Pan-Optic, can view the farthest galaxies
To the perisaturnium moons.
So blessed am I. My heavenly sight
Behold the wonders of creation.
At nightfall a pervasive calm settles
Over the Vales. The nacreous-shimmering
Clouds of daylight have long retreated into
Abeyance. No more to be seen the once indommitable
Phoebus, whose ebullient reign has now been curtailed
By Phoebe’s regnancy…