The Lone Night Weaver
Silently he weaves his way through nebulous skies
Traversing the night for his place in the sunshine
Beautiful planet he'd seen once upon a dream,
On his breast rests a rose of Sharon of gold streams.
The ride is rough as he must avoid shooting stars,
Attractive for a time, but mirrored dreams they are,
Their fires soon becoming extinguished, gone black
Meeting their doom in the vacuum of black holes' trap.
Such fatal end becomes a blessing in disguise
He learns he must follow a pattern for safe flight
He draws power from the sun and the earth's moon
Whose lights are constant, a sight he knows not to lose.
At long last, near the moon he finds her, his heaven
Her light turned brightest gold by the rose of Sharon.
By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 06.07.11
For Francine Roberts' Sonnet contest.
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