Fine lace woven by the rising day and coming night. Pearl in morning, blue at even, dappled by the racing storms. Gold at noon and cream at dusk, diamond at the clearest dawns.
Fragile garment of the cold, swiftly spun of elfin thread. Pure for but an instant, strong for just a starlit night. Then rent by sun and foot and coming day.
Jewels dropped from a treasure chest of sky, glittering on branch and field and long-tipped pine. Glory for an instant, diamonds swiftly stolen by the sun.
Fierce for a snap, mad for an hour and then… gone. Rebel clouds netted by guardian winds; sifted by sunlight to a fine strewn dust that scatters through the blue of clearing day.