
New-penny-lustre sinks into its slot,
Handcranked by the Almighty’s infant thumbs;
Rock-candy brilliance speckles heav’n, and fought
By sudden fear of coin-forget, night comes.
To suck on astral sugardrops would sweet
And naughty be, unshod of gravity’s
Pajama-slipper down; but so to cheat
Would find me thrown on dawn’s loose-belted knees.
Or should the next allowance not be found,
Will I unsated drool through glass until
My envy quenches out, or rather bound
Unfettered of my mind, and so have fill?
I’ll float perhaps to touch the apogee,
And never heed the morning’s reveille.
IMAGE: Lebensstufen (Times of Life) by C. D. Friedrich. From Art Resource.
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