Zenith Gold

It was no brand of television glow
The moon had on meridian display,
But a light like no other light I know
In all the annuls of the night and day.
Some may liken it to a neon gleam
But bottled lightning has a jagged edge
And is so unsuitable for a dream
When it strikes us like a photonic sledge
And not with a soft Athenian grace
Like a laurel gloss mixed with lemon rose
From a gently reclining angel face
Whose halo a candlepower bestows
All throughout our terrestrial sky...
As heavenly as a coquettish eye!