He is as one
With he whom resides
Abidingly inside,
Who lived within
When body draped
With youthful skin,
Yet he who be therein
Albeit much the same,
Not so the he we see
Worn more than thin,
With cragged façade
Those years did carve,
Upon a now worn lad
The while resides as one,
With he who lives inside!
ode to they who have arrived
A snow flake
At the bottom lies,
Be reason I wonder
About the others
Who first arrived,
And now held under
Manage to survive,
While on the surface
Layer upon layer
More materialize,
Thus no surprise
As scale expands
Find to hold hands,
Supporting each other
To bear the strain
They’ve need to shoulder,
When snow turns to rain…
Hence be brothers
Reach for druthers,
To save what’s left
Spared of corrupt,
If not in vain
From mans foul mess,
When snow flakes turn to rain!
Poetry on a canapé 