Blue topaz dreams
and stars without owners.
The sky is free
freer than you or me.
It doesn't have to keep
its fears locked up.
It rains them all out--
diamond wings on the air.
Catch one as it falls,
make a wish before
the wet angel dies;
Wind and Sun will carry it
back to those
sapphire plains above,
the spirit of a tear.
YOU ARE READING
Prickmedainty Poetry
PoetryFor all those who broke their glass slipper and still search for stars in the shards.
