A Hue of Heaven
Above lime trees, below the lemon sun
The bees and birds bathe in the skies lagoon
Of this fine hour I gaze what has begun
To me to be the quiet birth of noon
In symphony with natures harp and tune
A hue of heaven brushed above the air
Of sacred ether and omniscient flare
Baptising wings where-in horizons dew
With eyes as feet that step to stair, I stare
Awestruck anew a splendour of a view
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