tagNon-Erotic PoetryTycho Brahe writes to his wife

Tycho Brahe writes to his wife


You would grow in my eye with the distance and squared,
seven paces away you would fill up the sky,
a phantasma of lights, breathing cosmos as air.
Breathe me gently to sleep where I spin, passing by.

Seven seconds from here you'd be written in runes
on a wind weathered cliff, facing north for the shade.
An enigma for scholars and dreamers and loons,
spinning silk by your words, ancient song in a braid.

You would grow with the distance and squared in my eye,
you'd be fabric of saga before I lost sight.
Every heavenly shape, every sphere must comply,
as you anchor me here, facing stars, blessed by light.

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byLiar© 10 comments/ 4882 views/ 3 favorites

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