Hair in the wind
Brown in the sun
Midday-born light—
Silken strands of crested corn.
Jack was nimble
he was quick
but he\'s not taking that candlestick.
All the queen\'s horses
and all the queen\'s men
run their own courses,
then run them again.
Sparks light the sky
a brilliant welder\'s flash
a jewel in disguise
a jouster\'s winning prize;
and yet, a clockwork dandelion
sings softly to forgotten stars.