Friday, April 28, 2006
© 2006 Rick Lee By permission.
Old steeples float above the town
Where birds and clouds belong,
And watch the sun drift gently down
Each day at evensong.
The light selects a gleaming spire
From those that dot the sky;
The others, in more drab attire
Cannot attract its eye.
The chosen tower flaunts its glow
Before its lofty friends
Until the sunglow dips below
And sunset vigil ends.
Perhaps when dawn redeems the light
And hoists it into view,
Another's crown may shine as bright
With morning's rosy hue
But for this hour of waning day
The chosen belfry gleams,
And revels in its grand display
Afire with twilight beams.
© 2006 Jeffrey Hull