Sunday, December 20, 2015

Ken Allan Dronsfield

Filet of Soul

Rising from the grasp of a tenacious Black Hole;
escaping on the crest of a comet's bristling tail.
An atom's enigma in this planetary dust bowl;
a distorted ray of matter; oblivious to detail.
Bouncing on the Moon with exaggerated steps;
racing a light beam to the Sun's inner core.
Traversing a nebula while many have wept;
Kissing a falling star as wishes often bore.
A spirited haste to rejoin the human race...
choking on the stardust within a flavored sky;
ready for the trials after a harmonizing disgrace.
Released by the serpent with a final flaming goodbye.

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