Cresting Poem by John Weber
Cresting
Pale shimmers break
to quake the morn
while night forsakes
all hidden scorn
that snakes away
when light adorns.
Horus blazes
an arc again
lofting praises
that spark Amen
symmetrically
to whet my pen.
Advancing waves
won't stave my dance
since braves made slaves
by chance advance
with godly calm
to prod romance.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
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4/16/2024 5:15:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
