Poetry for Peace. Day 14. Poem 14.

This is Day 14 of Poetry for Peace. I'm burning the midnight oil (well, almost) again. I think I should call this challenge not Poetry for Peace but Poetry under Pressure. Still, it wouldn't be much of a game if the barriers of space, time, lack of sleep, ageing bodies that have to be fed and so on and so forth were too easy to overcome.
So it's eleven-thirty, which is waaaaay past my bedtime (man my age and all that) but I've come up with a poem, ejaculated it onto the page (if you'll pardon the not-very-poetic expression) and am publishing it forthwith with scarcely a proof-read and before I come to my senses. I have a horrible feeling I am going to regret it in the morning.

Something Wonderful

by Steve Cook

There’s a small blue world
Circling a yellow star
Far-flung on the galaxy’s Orion arm. 
‘Tis there a million exiled poets dwell
And thence ten thousand songs resound
To the sound of a planet dreaming.
It dreams of heaven and of hell
And all points in between
But if you listen well you’ll hear
A billion heart-strings hum
Like strummed harps singing.
They tell of love and hope and aspiration
And spirit perpetually transcending 
The message of surrender writ
Like forlorn whispers in the beaten sand
Where the deep sea's timeless breakers fell, 
Yet o’er the swells the seagull’s cry foretells:
Something wonderful is coming.
Can you not hear it?

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