Note/L10N/Stars_Rest/3.0/Books/KhetSRPoetryBook?
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Starlit Musings<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
<br>
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<br>
<HR>
Scribe<br>
~~~~~
<br>
In the citrus<br>
of starlight and frost<br>
crystalline shimmers<br>
<br>
Silence<br>
<br>
Savor the crisp edge<br>
of still midnight<br>
<br>
Script here<br>
your night-glitter stanzas<br>
in moon ink<br>
where you find free space<br>
between constellations<br>
<br>
she will lend her silk<br>
incandescence<br>
and illuminate again<br>
<br>
Silence<br>
<br>
harboured<br>
in the hand<br>
that holds the pen<br>
<HR>
Star<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
Suspended,<br>
frozen<br>
<br>
I burned<br>
too brightly to be held<br>
Unchanging,<br>
yet sentient<br>
<br>
Almost<br>
eternal<br>
<br>
I watched,<br>
lonely<br>
for your attention<br>
danced<br>
glass slippers<br>
on heaven's floor<br>
glittering your sky<br>
for a millennium<br>
<br>
you<br>
<br>
never once<br>
<br>
looked<br>
<br>
up.<br>
<HR>
<br>
<br>
<br>
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<br>
<HR>
King<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
Charmed,<br>
I crept from my bed<br>
in the clear,<br>
hushed corners of night<br>
to watch the sky light<br>
behind the veil<br>
of morning<br>
<br>
I had no speech<br>
prepared for the Sun,<br>
but bless him;<br>
he'd never seen a Star<br>
face-to-face<br>
and could do naught but<br>
shine brighter<br>
in delight of like company.<br>
<HR>
Brethren<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
The moon said you were not her child to give away; the trees said they were not your watchers, as they are mine. Then, who has these rights? I do not speak to the sun - he is a distant father, doting in the few seconds he shines before retiring, always early. The winds themselves are children by comparison and have no say in the matters of man - they simply move and shape as ordered by the firmament, as the waters do at the earth's command.<br>
<HR>
Maestro<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
Gently,<br>
Swiftly<br>
Scoop twilight free<br>
of sunshine debris<br>
<br>
Raise the curtain for night<br>
and we will dance, Sir<br>
<br>
'Cross polished tops<br>
like scattered jacks<br>
Fragment glass<br>
like glittered rags<br>
Broken, beautiful<br>
words<br>
<HR>
Morning Girl<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
She,<br>
born to sing at morning,<br>
says the stars follow.<br>
<br>
I have seen her color guard<br>
stand watch,<br>
and I believe;<br>
For who knows more intimately<br>
the constellations,<br>
than small hands<br>
smoothe their sheets<br>
and lullaby<br>
at flip-side bedtime?<br>
Ah, there is no one.<br>
<br>
They dream<br>
through sheer curtains,<br>
and I think she soaks glitter<br>
through windows.<br>
<HR>
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<br>
<HR>
Versus<br>
~~~~~<br>
<br>
If moonlight<br>
haloes the heads<br>
of pretty ones,<br>
if starlight<br>
dons the bedsheets<br>
of your sin,<br>
if sunlight<br>
breaks you<br>
with weights of doubt-<br>
<br>
When do you love?<br>
<br>
In lightless sanctuary<br>
behind closed eyes?<br>
in passed time,<br>
in poetry?<br>
<br>
Night and day<br>
do not share one sky.<br>
<br>
They battle endlessly<br>
for control<br>
<br>
I've seen your face contort,<br>
your limbs twist unnaturally<br>
in the throes of morning crossfire<br>
<br>
I've seen the gauntlet slams<br>
hot flickers of execution<br>
perjury and<br>
self-treason<br>
<br>
fear<br>
<br>
regret<br>
<br>
Love<br>
Does not regret.<br>
<br>
Neither shall I.
<HR>
<br>
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~<br>
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