Pale soft curve of forlorn eve

So rarely you pass before my eyes

From the peerlessness of the sky you birth

Never have you been exhausted

Saddled aloft in the chariot among the eleventh hour

Only one side of your face you gleefully array

That I am grateful the other I cannot say

Beneath you’re all splendid manner

There are never the words to ever all know

For peering at the sun gives me no depth, only warmth

Cannot I stare, ‘tis everywhere

But you I can feel inside

Oh maiden permeating luxurious realm

Stare before me behind azure clouds

You are utterly revealed

I can sense your full measure through these courtly eyes

Long impress I may on your heavenly allay

With time you are connected in all brevets of that orbit

So yours is the shortest season

Allotted to chance thirteen at the year’s bound

In the blue wonder slightest circles encompass

For this era, wide tides in emotion’s stride

So near they are to want to move closer and adjoin

Enchanted by a chance I give in to inherit your lands

My dear enchantress to powerfully swoon upon mission

Become the oracle in disguise from mere crescent

Our stern glow strips all my attire

And past imprudent

Left only purest white among the blackened sky

Nothingness has never began without you

An end has never resolved without your beginning

‘Tis enough of the day to fetter in your making

Sorrow for long days reprieved

And so I celebrate among you that which will be new

With each of your months passing

I mature furthermore with you; are

The wisest star

Michael Pinnell 2 1 2002