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Aye, Summer-tide ...
On such divine evenings, thus, are perfect odes not freely spun?
The Perseids, dancing their jigs - evanescent stripes of golden ire,
under a tapestry of wonders ...
Watching rapt, ever-attentive, streaking, burning ephemeral, as if the
gods themselves trace their fingertips gently on a phosphorescent brine,
but this, yet, a sea of suns.
Could it be they are fleeting?
Hopes of angels, perhaps, dying bright in the veil of Zion - plunging to earth
as if mortal. Perchance, they're pearls of Sol, strands of liquid morning, pure,
to adorn the breast of Heaven.
Could they be forsaken souls?
Lost spirits, given one last chance to burn - to sign their id on the firmament.
Or even yet, the wishes of children, sparkling to life in the midst of their
deepest dreaming ... and then gone.
Oh, surely, it must be that!
Their bright, momentary glory is meant for just such tender fancy, the
imaginings of youth, the only fit and worthy vessel for such runes, and I,
an ever-willing caretaker.
Thus, on such divine evenings ...
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Shooting Stars" Poetry Contest, Nayda Ivette Negron, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Your Choice (5), Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "2019 Poetry Marathon Mile One" Poetry Contest, Mark Toney, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Cosmos" Poetry Contest, Thvia Shetley, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 4th Place ~ in the "Spring" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
~ Poem of the Day ~ on Poetry Soup.com, awarded August 7, 2017.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2017