Rows of Tight Gold

I want it to shine
To spring from ones dreams
Ethereal origins 
All split from the scene
Placed carefully down
A feather light crown
Petals encrusted
With gold in tight rows
Sparkle and tingle
Float bubbles of snow
Valued by many

Never forgetting 
the lowest of lows.
Once it escapes,
From tight furrowed brows,
It glances around 
At all the mad cows
And seeks for a meaning
Something to hold
Like rows of tight gold.

Dorian LaGuardia