Wealthy Monarch

Of all beacons beaten to darkness
the knowing glow of the one least heartless
sparks in arcs forever
Embarks for never before seen
serene scenes of keenness
and a sheen of good, clean fun
We’ve stood with mean blood and clear sun
unsullied by sudden stillness
If you’d chosen to still choose then you’d choose to see this
blissful little tryst between distant friends
whose distance was lessened by you, in the end
(for Rich)

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