I look up;
The mighty ships
Drift slowly hither.
They stop for a while,
Looming over the plains
Attacking the fields,
And the meadows,
And the gardens.
A beautiful attack,
Alleviating despair.
The fresh scent of the Earth
And fragrances from the new blooms
Fill the air;
It is as if this landscape
Just learned of colour.
But the ships anchor not,
For they must bring life and hope elsewhere too,
And they drift slowly thither.
Oct 26, 2024
Oct 26, 2024 at 9:26 AM UTC
I look up;
The mighty ships
Drift slowly hither.
They stop for a while,
Looming over the plains
Attacking the fields,
And the meadows,
And the gardens.
A beautiful attack,
Alleviating despair.
The fresh scent of the Earth
And fragrances from the new blooms
Fill the air;
It is as if this landscape
Just learned of colour.
But the ships anchor not,
For they must bring life and hope elsewhere too,
And they drift slowly thither.