Roy Ernest Ballard

You - Poem by Roy Ernest Ballard

What is made of all the scars
and residues of blown-up stars
set in a world of dust made new,
condensed upon a spot of blue?
You, you are!

The moon has minted silver bars;
its midnight rainbows end in jars
and crocks of gold; this might be true
but you are.

The mountains know not the chamois;
the sky is ignorant; the stars
lit up for worlds they never knew;
they grew no wiser as they grew
but you are.

Topic(s) of this poem: moon, stars, you

Comments about You by Roy Ernest Ballard

  • Margaret O Driscoll (1/14/2016 4:02:00 AM)

    Beautiful work Roy! ! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 13, 2016

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