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Sweetest Gaze that ever Graced Fair Cerulean,
If Tempests would in Broader Might be stirred,
Such Might should Sweep and Lash this Fragile shore;
Yet, under the Allure of that Imposing Visage,
Which makes my Every Breath to Sigh and
My Beating Heart to Shiver,
The Mighty storm of that Fair Gaze,
Like Beauty far too Great to be Perceived,
Gives each Moment and each Breath,
Lingering here in a Ransomed, petty Hour,
Diligence and Purpose to Withstand
That bitter misery of Shallow Time
Until our Twain Gazes Meet.

Then, Beneath the Brazen Fire of that Gilded Sky,
Where Apollo in Calamitous Vestige Holds Sway,
Shall Light seem feeble and Golden Fire,
Which else should set the sill of Earth Aflame,
Appear Meager, impoverished sparks by Honest Comparison.

Thus, as Day Beguiles Night
And Night the Day,
As Stars in Heaven Trace their Courses,
And those Courses Lure Each Star;
As the waves of the Vast Ocean Caress the Shore,
And the Shore, beneath such Sensuous Touch does Sigh,
I stand in the Pitch of darkest night,
Awaiting the Bright Spectacle of His Gaze,
That Sweet Cerulean which broods in Tempests
And does, in Potent Splendor,
Hold my every Breath
as Ransom.

Beautiful Photograph found at: .radionowhere.org.uk