It is beautiful as it stays;
This great beauty cannot be matched.
Though it leaves a mark as it
melts away,
Its loveliness has now a thought unlatched.
Bringing laughter, fun, and
games,
This one sight is all alone.
Leaving dreariness and pain,
Making us think when it is gone.
Once you’d say, “O, how
pretty,”
As you looked o’er all the land.
And this would turn to, “What
a pity,”
As in the marshes of life you stand.
(1980)
This entry was posted
on 16 April 2012
at 8:51 AM
and is filed under
National Poetry Month,
Poems
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