Autumn's Princess, Winter's Queen
Clothed in robes of shining light,
That billow in the wind,
She flies across be-nighted skies,
From even to night's end.
Sometimes silver, blue or gold,
Sometimes rainbow hues,
Always glorious to see,
She leaves me so enthused.
Her hair a mane of silver,
Flowing wild about,
With streaks of gold and sparkles,
Surpasses without doubt,
All the beauties sung about,
Of goddesses of old.
She's Autumn's princess, Winter's queen,
Seen when the air grows cold.
Floating just below the clouds,
She sips from God's own chalice,
Crystal nectar, pure and sweet,
Aurora Borealis.
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2011
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