Though undead I am, mythless
I miss the stars at night, speechless
The aura of the sun, endless
Nature I appreciate
Its beauty you can’t negotiate
By and by it’s perfect
You can never slow it down, respect
What it’s made of, do continue to inspect
For we knoweth not how the mighty one works
Gather your pens, get cartons of chalks
Helpless is he who tries to analyze
For his medulla all shall disorganize
The faster he adores, the best he realize
That the work of nature is unbeatable
Re-modeled though it be, it’s unchangeable
Green we want and scream
Whatever happened to it? , Him!
Yes, man changed its hue with his “cream”
It was greener and far better
We claim it’s best but for self satisfaction, does it really matter?
Cry not I may
But staked, here I lay
Man made night and day
Scared be the moon of thy light
Would it ever be what was? But to hope I hold on tight
trying to capture nature’s grandeur… nice!
thanks :)
@ELIZABETHII,
re-reading your poem
keeps beautifying my mental screen
filling my mouth with foam
of words rich meaning unseen……………..
Thanks a lot :)
I’m smile-crying…
xoxxo