bullit d'milo

oh, stop - stop dragging the sky
 of my dippers that sometimes fade
Orion why run from the sun
Polaris, won't you stay
for the fires, burning in amber voice - to deliver but one resort
 the claim that "now's no time to squander, or toss away"
and so compelling, they deem to pave a way
 for ambition and come what may
thus - and though it's probably for the first time
 i'm agape at the jewel of my soul in life

for the first time since Heaven's gift
 waking moments return a kiss
wet, and never stolen quick
 as with assaults that are the dawn's insist
so please Apollo, don't take your ride
 I am not in the mood for it
though for Luna's own hosts of vision and softer wit
 i'll go on all night

through the rushing airs of almost any breeze
 here they come on their night bird wings
to help this waif weed through the dawn's mediocrity
and find a widow's web of mindful things                 
 that a lion's share of bold and timeless themes
is weaving back to me
as i pause for a second or more in a rich daydream

where the misty rhymes of audacity
are the lights that shine in the first parade
that conveys a peace
 that in no one's mind is betrayed

so i'll take any chance
  to believe in this way
allowing fantasy to usher through
between treaties offered by this moon to the morning's onrush
of frameworks that strangle me
in their own d'milo
of black widow wires