My Art

My fabulous existence had its start
In outer space, where I exploded twice,
Turned white hot, changed into a block of ice
With pyramids of diamonds at its heart
(The pattern here displayed as a star chart),
Then delicately I took one thin slice
And saved it (on solicitor's advice),
Employing it in service of my art.

New sonnets, each a jewel of great worth,
Come forth, as quickly as a raging flood
That carries life along, amid the mud
And branches, representing the rebirth
Of beauty, as I populate the earth
With children of my dark poetic blood.