Hanging up there against the bright blue
like a golden jewel
in a necklace centerpiece.
Do you have the urge
to pluck and place it
in your own tiara?
Or perhaps give it to the goldsmith
with a hammer to beat it thinly
into a gorgeous dish.
He would not need a forge,
may not be able to hold all
that heat with his tools.
I could see you wearing it like a halo,
the way you did
when I first saw you
standing on the sand.
The sky a crisp backdrop
for your silhouette,
wearing the sun like a crown.
Bright Crown
Published by
Visions of Clarity 