The stars,
They twinkle. Like diamante studs,
Against a navy backdrop of backing satin;
Nestled in God's jewellery box,
One. Stands out amongst all the rest,
His favourite, The North Star.
Under this lid of intricately carved constellations.
On mahogany driftwood plank,
That floated upon oceans,
Which lapped at coasts eroding land,
That marks the end of boithrins.
And pot holed roads,
People rich and poor;
Living, breathing Miracles,
All his children;
His Pride and Joy,
That travel on motorways
that slash the land and lead,
to cities which lights block the darkness
of night sky,
And God.....
He shuts the lid slowly as He beams at His diamonds,
beyond the diamante studs of the stars.