christian poetry

when i was broke in london
have you not heard
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
white foam flower, red flame flower
simplicity
their beautiful hair
there are three ways in which men take
to clothe the fiery thought
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
quietly, with reverance, in awe
when the wind works against us in the dark
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
gone before us