Awe of the Heavenly Bodies
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The moon would kill to have a face the shape
And beauty that yours shows, the smoothness, force,
The splendor of your dazzle with escape
As if from Plato’s perfect highest source,
A loveliness that Venus would adore
To have as satellites around the veil
That hides her face. Her brother, god of war,
Hides jealousy because his moons ride male,
Phobos Deimos
Malformed like dwarves. The rings of Saturn swirl
Around and think that they compete but they
Are ragged forms, Baroque, though glowing pearl.
Not moons they all would eat your face as prey.
The envy of the solar system’s spheres,
Your face and beauty have no spinning peers.
~ Phillip Whidden