Listen to poem:
Fleetings
Fleetings are too faint,
too few, and so far between.
Fleeting is a butterfly
alighted with folded wings.
The glimpse of love
a flimsy kiss on cheek brings.
Dewdrops left on leaves
by early morning mist.
Echoes faint and feeble
that callers often missed.
The glint of sunbeams
quivering on a rippled lake.
The sunrise briefly peaking
through clouds at day-break.
The flit of candle flames
brushed by secret hushed remarks,
whispered quietly,
to quell the spell of tell-tale larks.
Fleetings are footnotes,
too often skipped,
when skip-reading, from your scripts!
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