A Dream Of Unearthly Light. 

     I long to see the bright stars blaze
    in spectral clouds from bow to stern
    while travelling on the ancient ways
    in a ship that's bound where others burn.


    Fitted with fine webbed silvery sails
   she'd ride the flux round a fierce blue sun,
   deep in the shroud of it's great glowing veils
   where storms of starblown ions run.


   Alone where the muttering dust darkness flies
  I'd look with mute hope for creatures of light
  like dances of neon in slow firework skies,
  or jewels in a cavern of magical night.


  But soaring on to the unbounded arc
 of the spiralling stars I might want for an end
 of ineffable searching through distance and dark,
 and still have no more than midsummer can lend.


 Dusk draws the cloudlight all curdled and belting
with dragon-smoke seas of land clear to the moon.
Like brass from the fire, but a ghost of the melting,
the dreaming heights pass through the echo of noon.