Joy is peace dancing, and peace is joy at rest.
F.B. Meyer

Daydream a spot of 
Sunrise on a stem—twirling, waving
Like a topaz gemstone on the tip of Solomon’s scepter

In the green gush of growing,
In the fresh-washed air hung up to dry
In the warm after-rain-noon

Daydream a spot of
Syrupy sweetness on a stem—glowing, dripping
Like orange sherbet of a child’s push-up pop