Dragonfly Sunsets
I think there’s magic left still in today,
To change back pink near sunsets ominous;
Where colors viewed assemble midnight gray,
Staining soft skies with reckless wantonness;
Daffodil gardens peer out from long weeds,
Hoping same may enwrap their blossom’s flight;
For seen are buckets of poisonous seeds,
Sprouted tomorrow that grow overnight;
I believe wise dragonflies yet exist,
With wing-ed strength to stir warm meadows cool,
And put out fires where smoky plumes persist,
Returning power to the golden rule;
In forest scenes a rustle heard from trees,
Says first for all I must ask heaven please.
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