Of the 10th Order

The wind rattles and shuttles leaves into fall And grass wipes off its tears in the pour of night. I hear throbbing haunches and tramps of stallions. Garlands of blinking cowry shells Ferried long from the treasury shores of the hoary moon circle their ripe manes. Their hooves are cobbled ribbons that swim in the vicinity, In a green picked from the virgin gardens of orion. Then he appears on a grandeur chariot, Sublime in the way he stoops for my being. Every turn of the draconian rims, grand and millennial. Crickets kick in creak and hearts heat in beats and him speaks in flickers. The seraph spread of the white of his wings shines, In purest and fairest of odd Streaming milky in the way it pours out light unto the sun His robe was torn from the scintilla of clockless nebulae His skin freckles in sparkles of the gold of lyra and emeralds of taurus He is not an enemy yet carries a triple-edged stainless rapier Fetched from the mouth of draconis. An aura of pirouetting cub whirlstorms keep him faceless He thirsts my glory and haunts again He's my angel of success