Sonnet #1

Humility Sonnet

Atop a hill the queenly flowers stretch
Bestowing fragrant airs upon the meek
A toddler’s undiscerning hide and seek
With booted heel has crushed a royal wretch
My petals once uncurled as though to fetch
Are now in flattened earth. Aroma weak
I’ll decompose without a word to speak
I’ll miss my part in every artist’s sketch
But if my God allows the days to pass
The weight of rain will push me down a grade
And bedding with a seed beneath the grass
We’ll die together in a lover’s braid
Conceiving stem to trunk and kingdom class
Providing all the meadow with our shade


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Diana said...
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