Immaculate Sky

A man looked upon his lover’s smile
and remarked on her freckled guile.
“I only wish I was golden hued,”
she sighed, “such as Summer renewed;
so bright, so fair,
with a glowing air,
pristine, serene,
unmarked and clean.”
“Not so,” he said, “for they please my eye
and what would the dark Night sky
be without its strewn scatter of stars
as stepping stones between Venus and Mars?
Were you, as you say,
perfectly skinned, in every way,
how might a mortal like me
approach such abject divinity?
A lonely Summer sky would I know,
however bright you might glow.”

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