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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #768657
playing around with Petrachian sonnet structure...
I sought last night to catch myself a star
The one that twinkled gaily from afar.
I bound it tight in ropes of smoky mist
Held tight the silver harness in my fist.
Then carefully placed, so as not to mar
My luminescent beauty in a jar.
Against the crystal glass I pressed a kiss
And watched my star against its confines twist
It tried in vain to set the lid ajar.
I woke this morning to find it had died;
A dull and blackened stone left in its place,
It shined no more, my diamond of the sky.
“No prize is this lackluster lump!” I cried
And buried it in clouds and endless space
And, phoenix – like, it shone again up high.
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