The Star too Close for Comfort
‘chase the star that cannot stop, venture near that glowing dot: what ball of fire won’t burn its prey, though it bade you, come, what may?
chance upon a hollowed tree and probe the nest of honey bee: each tag and sting from kith and kin, will purge with pain your deadly sin
and perish not angelic moth spook horse called Froth, who’ll bolt against your flippant-fling, the day you fly on final wing’
‘Terms of Affection’ Series
