At six on seven

A life-guild’s gleeful journeyman
Greets his sixth from the seventh on the twenty-fifth
As certain apprentice he ponders at parapet
Aflame with a future-forged fortune
A fair fledgling’s gaze of no cynic’s glazing

Filled by no simple fantasy
But brimming in Grace, nested in heart and art
And beaming ‘twixt middle-land’s suns to Albion’s mist

Easy leagues for the horizon-summoned son of Antiquity’s mentoring
Flying Spirit fleet and bold-burning Light

To yet-untold futures truly bright


For the A, A and a that are ever in mind and heart