Category: Astronomy

Some nights the moon rides bold and high,
A bright silver dollar across the sky;
But this morning she’s hiding, the merest slit–
A deflated dollar ashamed of it.

by Ray Romine Thursday, June 25, 1953

Against their fitting setting
Of dark infinity,
The stars of March are pin-points
Of jewelled brilliancy.

Is such rare perfection,
High in the blackness pinned,
Due to being polished
Nightly by the wind?

by Ray Romine Monday, August 27, 1951

I paused awhile upon a hill, the city far below,
And sew the garish, blinking lights that man has made to glow.
I sensed the pompous ego there–man’s voice imperious, vain,
Seemed mingled with the boasting glare, of common birth the twain.

I raised my eyes to heaven then and saw the lamps of God
That twinkle forth so quietly, on paths no man may trod;
I found the Pleiades, that wounds in Taurus’ shoulder be,
And Sirius swung across the sky at fierce Orion’s knee.

How truly great, magnificent! Each tiny point of light
Is sun so huge it dwttrfs our own, an overwhelming might
Of flame and gas, a whirling mass, all wrought on scale so grand
When measured with, our universe is but a grain of sand.

Those self-same shapes Christ looked upon two thousand years ago;
Our great-greet-great grandchildren will still see them there, we know:
But man’s brief flash he boasts about will long as candle last–
How will he scratch the track of time when future scans the past?

I stood and mused upon a hill, the city down below,
And sew the raucous, glaring lights that man has made to glow:
I sensed the pompous ego there–I turned my eyes to Thee,
And glimpsed the light that from thy stars dost teach humility.

by Ray Romine Monday, October 27, 1941

Pin-points of light that flash a message from
Star matter out remote light-years from me
Lift me from out myself till I become
One with unthinkable infinity.

by Ray Romine Monday, February 1, 1954

The stars read slowly, wise old men
Blinking through bifocals. Then,
Says one, “Did you notice, sports,
By that small sun–a flash of sorts,
As brief as an atomic age?”
They nod and yawn, and turn a page…

by Ray Romine Monday, March 20, 1950

This August sun pours its relentless heat
As though it had some deadline it must meet,
Some rival sun it must somehow outshine,
Some record needing breaking. I incline,
However, to believe this sudden birth
Of energy, this vindictiveness toward earth
That saps our strength, depriving us of motion,
Is nothing more or less than an emotion:
King Hydrogen is jealous. All this fuss
About a man-made H-bomb-he’ll show us!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, March 30, 1954

This month, I think if I were one foot taller,
And stood on tiptoe, I could touch the stars–
The friendly jewels of June, that flowered caller
Who hides so well the last of winter’s scars.

Her beauty shines a far cry from sedately;
She stands out merrily against the midnight black.
And though the year ’round stars entrance me greatly,
The gems of June seem always to smile back.

by Ray Romine Sunday, December 9, 1951

The stars of wintertime are cold
Iced points of pure disdain,
While those of March blow overbold,
And April’s foretell rain.
But lo–the skies of this newcomer:
The stars of Maytime promise summer.

by Ray Romine Wednesday, October 4, 1950

The dipper handle this month is our guide:
We round its curve to reach Arcturus’ glare,
The light by which Bootes I mighty stride
Tries futilely to catch a Polar bear.

The curve continues on to Spica where
The jewelled Virgin sits, serene and sage.
Her diamonds sparkle vlhile she probes this flair
For antics in a man Bootes’ age!

by Ray Romine Saturday, November 15, 1952

All through the day the angry sun
Pushed heat through hat and home, like one
Demented , “We shall try the park~
I said, “It’s cooler after dark.”

But man proposes. As the light
Coalesces into night ,
Here we are confronted by
The white-hot stars of mid-July!

by Ray Romine Monday, December 10, 1951