On the Nap of Monarch’s wing

On the Nap of a Monarch’s wing I have flown.
And done but crossed times mortal ravages…
To that livery my King beholds His throne!
Save all; but these wolves and savages.

I wanted to unfurl into such cherub reaches
Cocooning’s scatter my minds lustrous web.
Fly me over blue vaporous; sparking, beaches
I don’t want to just crumble ashore and ebb?

Like some oily driftwood; haven’t we all been rolled...?
Prodigiously darker in these nonchalant waves
Emphatic is the harvest moon I want to behold:
Oh—edify my soul with His the one that saves?

The monarch’s beauty is but royally earthly savaged.
The landscape of any hungry, larvae is to be royally ravaged.

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