Prickmedainty Poetry

The Brightest Star

Nothing better than brushing one's hair

With a golden comb

A golden comb like a mermaid's own

Or a queen's chief delight.

I take my plastic shining thing—

(3 dollars at Walmart)

And comb my dreams

And twine my hair

And feel so infinite fair!

For even fool's gold 

May glimmer with

Imagination's sheen:

Anticipation outshines

The brightest star.