Crowning Moment

Night is certainly more novel and less profane than day. - Thoreau

here

in a sewn heart and patched soul

in spent youth, grey and old

in the strobed ballroom of night

on a dancefloor of eternity

twisting with the stars

tangoing with the moon

walking on a verdant field of golden clover

limboing 'neath the seemingly immovable bar of time

pierced feet never touching the ground

'round and 'round

why go when you can stay

kissing, pissing, blissing and missing the night away

a coronation of a new reign, ushering a new, preordained day

you can't keep a good man down

flipping upside down

erasing a frown

a verb speaks for itself and needs no noun

restoring priceless jewels one by one

in an aged, tarnished, but still royal crown

Author's Note

“While civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. It has created palaces, but it was not so easy to create noblemen and kings.” - Thoreau