FLOWER IN THE CRANNIED WALL
I tower above the crumbling ruins
Of a once majestic tower,
Flag and pennant proudly proclaimed
Pompous claim of pelf and power.
Yet all the boast and bombast,
In crumbling silence relates,
Of transient tenebrous things,
Of fickle times, of fickler fates!
Filigreed fronds in gentle sway,
Butterfly-hued my petals smile,
Delicate poise, yet firmly gripped
By roots who’ve been awhile.
So here I sit so up on high
Exuding sweet allure,
Biding time in changing climes
To wilt and die for sure.
But then, again, I’ll never die!
My seed will traverse to distant land
In nurturing avian gut to drop
In crag or cranny - to make its stand.
(And phoenix-like I'll rise again!)
Categories:
fickler, endurance, flower, imagery, loneliness,
Form: Verse
Flittering furts of fallacious folly,
fables of new forcefully fabricated,
five foundlings now faeries found
fabric faddishly forced surround
faceted gems for eyes they be
falling over the great fir tree
fain to feats of fantasy, factually
farrowed for all to see
fairish fair heads nodding fervently
fecked craning forward in familiarity
following constantly you and you
festively focused on fetes of few
fickler than fowl, fickler than dew
wonder of wonders, how’d they find you
felicity follows each fine feat
now’s the time to take your seat
such a surprise, oh so sweet, savor
alike this fine ole treat!
Categories:
fickler, fun,
Form: Blank verse