Tag Archives: sun

The Sun Queen

Source of heat and fuel for life
Beautiful at the horizon
Painting clouds and sky
We bask and burn in her glory
And she sits supreme at system centre
Girdled by her planets
Visited by stray comets
Regally burning
Interior electrons impede her light
Rendering our glowing orb opaque
Not that you can see this
It would burn your eyes out

Copyright © 2016  Kim Whysall-Hammond

Cave

Deep in a volcanic sea cave
crimson crabs hang from the ceiling
scuttle along walls, clattering  pincers
gather in their hundreds
in affront
as our boat noses in,
engine stilled.

We have raced across open ocean
slamming over waves
to be claustrophobically  enclosed
looked down upon by crustaceans
never before have I felt
such an visitor to my own planet
insignificant in the face of the whale and the dolphin
and now these outraged crabs.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Linked to the Earthweal Challenge “The Animal Gaze” :

earthweal weekly challenge: THE ANIMAL GAZE

Brief bloom

We are a brief bloom
On the fragile skin
Of a molten body
Encircling a massive furnace

We are a blossoming of sentience
With encrusted technologies
Craving wonder, hoping for company
Seeking knowledge and excitement

We truly are stardust
Our bodies built from atoms
Forged in successive stellar explosions
We crave the glories of the Universe

We are Human

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from last year

ophiuchusplanets_fairbairn_960

https://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap160510.html

Solar Flares

I do like poems with an Astronomical bent, and here’s a wonderful one from Paul F. Lenzi:

Poesy plus Polemics

SolorFlare “Solar Flare” by Dan Oliver

particle storms

shriek at inhuman

inaudible frequency

penetrate matter

lase holes through

the bones of minds

living and dead

mark acutely

the genomes of

all cosmic creatures

yet to be born

with the warning

that even the sun

is disposed to

explosions of rage

From my books Pieces of Wine and Legacies (vol.2)

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EOS

I would like to share this wonderful poem by Louis Faber with you:

an old writer and his words

Tomorrow the morning
will arrive as it always does,
eating the last vestiges
of night, painting the sky
in puce and crimson.
It will foretell the rain
that will carry our dreams
down the hill
and into storm sewers,
eventually to wash into the lake.
But in that moment
when the sky is ablaze,
none of that matters,
save the beauty of dawn.

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