Habitués of Heaven Hate to Hurry

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Habitués of Heaven hate to hurry,
After eons soaked in ecstasy,
Perched upon a pinhead, pink and blurry,
Passionately pleased simply to be.
Yet those of us below, who work and worry,
Send from time to time an urgent plea,
Ever hoping for a glimpse of glory
Vouchsafed from beyond what we can see.
Enter, then, O angels, in your fury,
Nether worlds no bigger than a pea,
To brush the moment with your burning beauty,
Hallowing this anniversary!

Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.

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