Reflective,hopefully more inspirational than sad.
We are the granite rocks some would say, When feeling strong, impervious and enduring; Others see us more in seaside's sand grains, Water and wind's playthings, beyond all securing. Springtime spirits would live forever, While winter ones say,sadly,never.
We are the mighty seqoiua some would say, Ground grasping, sky splitting, a sight to astound. Others see us more in rose's multi-hued display, Perfection profound, too soon returning to ground. When of spring I lived it's fancied truth, Autumnal thoughts diverge from those of youth.
While springtime's brood admits no change, Autumnal spirits their concepts rearrange. Springtime spirits would live forever, While winter ones say, sadly, never. In spring I thought I knew the truth, Now my thoughts diverge from those of youth.
Some think we're ocean wide, poweful and deep, Others see us more as shallow rain needful ponds. Are we more elephant's plod or pygmy shrews leap? More sea's smoothed pebbles or dancing kelp's fronds? Let's hearts and minds strengthen, intelligence hone, Now we know we're the butterfly, never the stone.
Poetry by Bill Lloyd
Read 273 times
Written on 2007-02-18 at 23:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Butterfly or a stone?
We are the steady noon-day sun, Shining powerful and bright every day. Others see us more in sunset,s flaming Glory, which builds, then fades away. Springtime's brood dreams endless youth But autumnal spirits know painful truth.We are the granite rocks some would say, When feeling strong, impervious and enduring; Others see us more in seaside's sand grains, Water and wind's playthings, beyond all securing. Springtime spirits would live forever, While winter ones say,sadly,never.
We are the mighty seqoiua some would say, Ground grasping, sky splitting, a sight to astound. Others see us more in rose's multi-hued display, Perfection profound, too soon returning to ground. When of spring I lived it's fancied truth, Autumnal thoughts diverge from those of youth.
While springtime's brood admits no change, Autumnal spirits their concepts rearrange. Springtime spirits would live forever, While winter ones say, sadly, never. In spring I thought I knew the truth, Now my thoughts diverge from those of youth.
Some think we're ocean wide, poweful and deep, Others see us more as shallow rain needful ponds. Are we more elephant's plod or pygmy shrews leap? More sea's smoothed pebbles or dancing kelp's fronds? Let's hearts and minds strengthen, intelligence hone, Now we know we're the butterfly, never the stone.
Poetry by Bill Lloyd
Read 273 times
Written on 2007-02-18 at 23:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
