Of Power In A Pembrokeshire Sky.
From the dawn's chill vault the bomb-hawk flies,
mad metal screeching, leaving shocked and aching skies.
Cumulus churns dark oils on cool blued steel,
ponderously rolling like a ship on a restless keel.
Elemental airshows chase the squalls;
clouds with wings and vanes parading where the West wind calls.
Distant fusion burns with gentled glare,
banishing the vapours, lightening the air.
Fire-thrown meteors draw their white gold arcs.
Cirrus frays, auroral on blue satin swept with sparks.
Like flares from sunfall's thermonuclear bloom,
high suspended cloud-spears brazen out the crawling gloom.
Coastlights scythe the eldritch wind-ruffled night
while I watch our primordial home - the stars that fade to white.
|