What do you choose for your pallet, O Lord,
As you set up your Atlas, your easel?
What do you splash on Aurora's skirts
While Helios prepares for his ride?
Do you borrow from Neptune's endless depths?
Do you snatch up Dawn's heralding pinks?
Then -- quick -- drown the canvas in Midas' touch
Before drifting to Azure's embrace?
It is my pleasure, your painting, The Dawn,
Every minute and hour of morn --
I will trace for all sight your brush-strokes of
The sky, your opus of unfettered joy!
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@Lhyrre
Estadounidense, poet, Christian. Let's tell stories together!
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