Aurora Borealis

a poem by Christine Anne Shaw, UK

In close cupped hands I hold a golden wish,
I kiss my thumbs, set free so it might fly.
My wish to gaze enchanted in the night
by spirits as they dance across the sky.

I'd marvel at the sight of Northern Lights
that sachay softly, swirl and glow bright green.
And then pinch-pleated curtains made from silk
that roll effusing hues of purple sheen.

Aurora, Roman Goddess of the dawn,
bring forth your lavish riches don't be shy.
Grant me one boon to kneel infront of you
and witness this first hand before I die.

Enrich my soul, delight me I implore,
don't leave me disappointed wanting more.

Inheritance
A Bouquet of Nature's Best
Melancholy Autumn

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