a driven blade into the hearts of the softening,
tongues stretching to taste the pall
disrupts a seclusion from accord.
bow and sing and smirk and wave,
there is no happier time than the blue hour;
taste the pie upon lips of hippo blessed wealth;
the possibility of something remarkable lies still,
lest you spark it! light it!
flames will tenderly caress your minds,
and thoughts with flattering will coax you:
live, live and die – but live first, and survive.
flourish, frisk, flutter, beside this frolic sky,
the wide blue yonder will take you, love you –
perhaps you will see Him.
A nice poem - magic blue hour?
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