exams
Is this my near unburdening?
A solitary bloom upon my stage,
The works of God are peaceful at this hour,
Or rather always but I just now see.
The many palettes of the sky and my
Carnation stark as blood has wept it's wounds.
It was a lovely day for you to bloom
Beneath sweet blues which gently usher in
Wispy diaspora and paint the sky
In perfect longing, sweet it is!
My lot is almost spent,
My toll so nearly sate,
My want now bidden home,
Oh by the pinker shades, I am so near!
The lightest yunnan tea
Is flutter on the tongue,
Bares hidden bitter-sweetness for
A ponder proof I sung,
For as of late so many proofs
Provide so bitter-sweet,
As revelries of sweet insight
But soon they'd be replete.
When all is gaily pink again,
A scattering of bloom,
And doubled are my hazy sights:
So many and so soon,
The heart becomes richly opaque,
Perhaps the trial confused,
But there is one I can't mistake,
My love and hope infused.
If it for pleasure, rose would do, but no,
My Lord, He bid me come and die.
And so the pink carnations bloom and woe
To hubris and the haughty scent of vice,
We'd make from crumbling excellence a man
Of stalwart peace in troubled time.
My pink carnation withers beyond bloom,
In dusty dreams of sunlight through old wooden frames,
The test is made to ancient tune,
A sliver of a quest for abstract games,
At least the petals lie for quite a while.
Pink carnations bloom in golden wash,
The day so fresh and sweet,
Entranced by oldest motions posh,
The clocks strike old and neat,
To witness all the riddled time,
Spent in such strained thought,
On valid ways and thoughtful crime,
Through rigour and its sort.