Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Ode To An Insect, Stuck In A Bed Of Thorns

Early in the morn I saw you there
In your silence and stillness,
Of your predicament then I was not aware
And methought - a sight indeed curious -
For upon thorns this little one perched!

But how persistently at it he kept -
How perfectly calm, stoic, unmoving
All through the day, till the sun set;
Perhaps he moved not, not for being unwilling
But that he could never more.

I could not comprehend
The reason you chose to go this way;
It is in your nature I understand,
Away from danger and certain death to stay;
Why then, this prickly path?


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