Gossamer, Gone
O gossamer, thy needles.
They shine like suns at play.
Bands of fate in full? She pulls!
Faster grow, O hay!
Erosion, art thou harbinger?
Kingdom gone? Returned?
Battlefield, thy prey! O cur!
How my heart has burned!
Tremendous time, thy measure.
Each minute to work out.
Poisoner, thy pleasure!
Dismay, decay, doubt!
Fine flickering in free fall?
Plight of a far-flung hope?
Funeral, thy darkest pall!
Invincible rope!
Creek trickling down the cliff?
Cold the water gets.
Faster, peasant! Pole that skiff!
He who shirks regrets!
Thistle in an empty field?
Spartan on the shield.
Wound in side that never healed.
Heart-blood a-congealed.
O xylophone, thy plaintive note.
Balloons love to float.
O ye travelers, pack thy tote!
Red the riddle rote...
Copyright © Chris Jensen | Year Posted 2025
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