beneath these wings

Much like Icarus, off they go; 
until condensation metes them 
reality's condescension:

Whose goals and objectives
are minute in life's greater scheme; 
wings fashioned from floss harps-

Yet they soar each firmament;
nary a doubt would sway resolve;
no tempest or tumult could dissuade.

If you chance upon a cloudless day
catch their echo of jubilant cries
and contemplate your turn to fly.




●○
°




Poetry by arquious
Read 572 times
Written on 2015-11-04 at 23:03

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JK Fisher
Well written, and I especially love the last verse:

If you chance upon a cloudless day
catch their echo of jubilant cries
and contemplate your turn to fly.
2015-11-09


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Brilliant. It has a classic feel to it. We called then santa claus flowers. We would blow them and make a wish.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/sharonsphotographycomau/7843843180

Unless I am wrong, but that's what came to mind :)
2015-11-09