Along the River
Along a muddy river bank sits
A pink beach ball floating steadily
Still; the water around lay stagnate
While mosquitoes circle around it
Searching for a place to land dryly.
I ponder the implications
Behind the lonely ball floating
And wonder what little actions
Caused such a circumstance to happen
While the world rows by unknowing.
The water is so thick with dirt
And debris, it would be difficult
To imagine a child would flirt
With swimming where they could get hurt
And parents would be held at fault.
So maybe I will never know
What brought that ball to this space,
But someone is sure to know
The origins of the ball that glows
So seemingly out of place.
The Daffodil Weeps
In the beam of morning sun,
the daffodil doth weep when
thine own beauty passes by,
for it is ashamed that it
hath nary a prayer of
comparing to thee, my love.
The bright colours of autumn
cannot inspire like the blush
in thy cheeks, and roses turn
down in thine presence, bowing
The vibrant tone of bronzed skin,
blonde hair, akin to pure silk,
complements the emerald green
of thine eyes, fiercely brilliant.
Butterflies whisper their shame
as they flutter o’er thee,
glimpsing thine slight tender form.
Thro’ these years, like Cabernet,
thou grow sweeter, more refined.
The melting light of the sun
cannot dim thy smile, nor can
the cold blast of winter dull
thy charm. Thou art forever
in my heart; held in my arms.