Ice Cream Sky

Sometimes when the clouds go on vacation and the sun glows for squinting, the sky becomes a big, bulging dome of ice cream. 
Not like the sunrise kind, which promises 
spicy chunks of peachy charcoal and mangonada; 
nor yet the sticky sunset of sweet turmeric and studded strawberry. 
No, this sky is an energetic, milky, fruity, summer-day flavor: blueberry earl grey, perhaps,
or taro-pine with a hint of lemon vanilla.
Now take your putty knife
and spread it flat against the North Pole,
then scoop it up and put it in a mountain-cone fringed with silver ice.
Whatever you do, just serve it fresh and cold,
garnished with stardust, clouds of marshmallow, and a sprig of sunbeam.
Ice cream is a great way to win favor among the angels,
you know.

• Author
• Recent Posts

Havalah Peirce

Havalah Ruth Peirce is a scholar and writer living in the tropics of Texas. A student of Classical and Christian thought, she seeks to glorify God in her pursuit of truth, wisdom, beauty, and joy.

When she's not busy college-student-ing, Havalah enjoys drawing, sewing, and pondering the meaning of that hopeful C. S. Lewis quote,

"How monotonously alike all the great tyrants and conquerors have been; how gloriously different are the saints."

Latest posts by Havalah Peirce (see all)

• The Boy at the Front Desk - January 1, 2024
• Ice Cream Sky - April 5, 2023