TITLE: THREE WEEKS By roj miedes 08/05/09 |
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Must we be always dreaming
Of lush gardens and thorny paths,
Of Christmas gifts and Pandora’s box,
Of sweet choc’lates and bitter pills,
Of Love’s warmth and winter’s chills-
While fancying butterflies to and fro,
Till three weeks of fantasy is through,
And pollens bore new birth in one,
While on others, colors dim-
And learn our lessons from the ants
Whose hardships toiled from sun to sun
Unknowing of the futility-
Till Death wakes us,
Finally?
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