Friday, 9 March 2018


Making entrance to the glory,
aI remind myself of story.
aI remind myself of duty
aI performed to be a beauty.

Maybe did the fruit tree never
see the consequences clever
when the flower, white or coloured,
it brought forth, the feeling honoured.

It did, though, expect a being
from the flower it was freeing.
And when finally appearing,
bearing is what it is wearing.