Sparks from nearby campfires
Might be stars of paradise
Glimpsed through twilight’s window
Too briefly for surmise

Of their height above the pines,
Their hues – red, green, or gold -–
Or mountains seen but dimly
Beyond the forest’s fold.

Lines of jeweled mountains,
Pale as moonlit snows,
Shining, reaching, soaring,
Rows on serried rows,

May illumine heaven’s nature
When strife and time are done:
Heaven is a quest unending,
Beauty ever just begun.

 

Robert Walton is a writer, educator, and poet living in California.

Featured Image: “The Campfire” by Albert Bierstadt.


NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to mbryant@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.