Tuesday, July 3, 2012

The Pursuit

Strangest fellow I ever did meet, a
Crazy old coot in the makings, but sweet
Love did he find and such acts did belay,
The thoughts of the future by her were beat.
Out of the mind that careworn intellect
Did he crawl to see, like some strange insect.
The moon doth morph to reflect her fair sun,
And so did he when he saw her, did run
To meet fair lass, did shed all of his fears;
Despite the smiles and laughs of all his peers.
What hope has man of living inside heart
Filled ambitions when such acts lack the flare
Of the Sun, that doth forget to impart
All that he is into a weave that doth not tear?

               The Pursuit, (c) Luke Bennette, June 2012

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