Blue Sky Burning

Blue sky burning morning blight, fae that flew at breaching light,
Smell sweet morning’s petrichor that set my waking mind to soar,
Scorching eyes with dayspring grey that swept the poppy scent away.
Purple clouds roll back and break upon the windborne Nephele
That sigh and bask in solar rays that beam from blushing, cherub face
Of fleet foot flying, Daphnaeus en route to claim his Colonus.
That painted Pallas pealing paeans did paint his plumes upon my dreams.
How silken sounded, sighing leaves that danced in blue becalming breeze.
A dreadful dream burned in my brain that purple peaks would pass away,
That ashen hue of morning grey would blaze beneath the face of day,
Then snuff in sudden sepulcher the wonder of a waking world.
Then ashes fall with pouring rain to smite the sodden earth and stain
The static air, so sickly sweet, where parted earth and sky now meet.
Their passion makes the stones to spark like muzzle-flash to split the dark.
A curtain over blushing sun—But lo, I wake, and I am home.
All of life is but a dream, and like our sleep, a passing thing.
A cotton cloud, I gently pressed, to rein the gallop in my breast.