Thirty-three counts well her many blessings,
Having come too far to be unsure.
In every moment there's a bit of wonder
Reserved for those who would refuse to plunder
Their portion for a place that's more secure.
Years yield good, rich oil through many pressings.
There are times one needs to change one's dressings:
Hearts and truths tend rarely to be pure.
Regardless whether welkins come asunder,
Even as the furies bluff and blunder,
Each acolyte of beauty will endure.