Tuesday, June 24, 2008

My Star

All that I know of a certain star 
is that it can be throw
like an angled spar
now a dart of red
Now a dart of blue
Till my friends have said 
They would fain see too
My star that darts the red and the blue!

Then it stops like a bird, like a flower, hangs furled
They must solace themselves with the saturn above it 
What matter to me if their star is a world?
Mine has opened its soul to me; therefore I love it.

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