Prelude
So many preludes, yet so little time
unanswered questions, tall mountains to climb.
Basking in wisdom, oft arrogance shown;
given scruples, we precariously own.
Life but the prelude to beautiful songs
finding its way amidst nature's vast throngs.
Old oaks and blossoms sprung from single seeds
preludes: seedlings of life's impatient needs.
Chapter upon chapter our lives peruse
good and evil choosing which to infuse.
As life ages, we wish for more preludes
to sunlit days, gentle dusk interludes.
September 25, 2021
Constance La France contest
"P" Poems
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2021
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