Though beauty is
Though beauty is a certainty as I look into the night,
it is a cold photograph, a beauty of black and darkness wed, a static display.
I would have the stars dance, or at least sway with vigour,
setting adrift a lucent fizz of powdered moonlight,
to cascade over the land like Christmas light drizzle.
But it would never get to earth, instead it would hang above, turning
the whole world into the faery grottos of childhood.
A reminder to keep the wonder and innocence we were born with,
to remember when magic was real and all was possible.