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…

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