Sparkles
The lark performs at your behest,
and rivers run their course at your command,
the moon spills brilliance,
lights the way, directed by your hand.
The stars are sparkles in your hair,
bright sprinkles in the dark of night,
your heart and soul sing love songs
that engage the wind in airy flight.
Soft and gentle are your ways,
sweet your countenance that glows,
the sun you relegate to shame,
this your nature doth disclose!
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2012
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