Lampstand

Your fine, fine gold 

gleaming in the gloom

The stature of your frame would grace any room

Seven branches, identical

Far surpassing all that’s 

ecumenical

Each bud and flower beaten 

to within an inch of its life

Their history riven with suffering and strife

Yet grandly there you stand

Firmly rooted on crown 

land

Superb structural glory!

That seems to define your life

But pales into darkness compared to your light

Your bright, bright flowers

Petals of light

Removing all shadow, dispelling the night

Nothing more glorious

than your effulgence diurnal

Steadfast, pure, radiance

eternal.