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Poem

The world's a grand kaleidoscope
comprised of shuffled scenery.
It shares its everlasting grace
as we walk amongst its majesty.

Green geysers sprout from earthen springs
with herbal shards as ornaments.
The blossoms of the world parade
to the joy of floral increments.

Somewhere wet winds from sunken skies
are lapping at the copper shores,
while boiling citric blood erupts
from the depths of tawny mountain cores.

Small sugar stars come shooting down
from ivory puffs like joyous tears,
and raging river rapids roar
at the royal sky so crystal clear.

A veil of sable feathers whisks
across the evening's coral lake;
the sparkling sprites of moonlit night
promenade throughout its dusky wake.

The choral cries of quadrupeds
resound from caves and forests deep,
while busy pinion-folk take wing
to their nests where helpless hatchlings sleep.

A searing guild of golden tongues
cascades from mouths of ashen gales,
and passive clouds of floating dew
skim along the rugs of vernal vales.

A school of silver shadows dance
beneath cerulean sheets of glass,
while frail auroral arthropods
play amongst the rows of emerald grass.

Somewhere a frozen pyramid
is rising from a powdered sea,
while bright prismatic tapestries
serenade the heavens' purity.

The world's a grand kaleidoscope,
revolving, free from mortal strife.
Can not we learn to cherish it,
as we turn its fragile shades of life?

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