Ed Morris Poet Light Verse

Plato's Cave

In Plato’s cave the poppies grow
Enchantingly, it seems:
A soothing, soporific show
Of mesmerizing dreams.

In Plato’s cave the roosters crow
And proudly call the sun.
They preen and strut and claim to know
Its fiery light, each one.

The poppies grow, the roosters crow,
Though shadows on a rock.
We call this only world we know
The Cave of Poppycock.

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Andrew Fairchild January 17, 2019 at 4:32 AM Ingeniously woven, I like 'the roosters crow and proudly call the sun.' I suppose, sometimes, it's enough to know, it's there, and it's warm! You have a good command of words and rhythm. :-) Ed Morris January 17, 2019 at 11:08 AM Thank you, Andrew.