Bronze Star
From the ambience of the boundless sky,
A twinkling and perfect bronze star,
As if a saint had gotten spry
And left the everlasting ajar.
The splendor of the palace beds
On the corner of the firmament
Where ice cloud and star weds,
Beyond all chills of any extent.
The twilight verse of the turtledove
Awakens us at morning's dawn
Foretelling blessings from above
And glory to the heaven-bound.
poem by Albert Price
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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