AuburnScribbler

Pride Amongst the Gravel

 

Human eyes, shocked were they,

as I saw shoots, under the bay,

I thought I did, all I could,

but low and behold, a yellow bud,

 

small golden cup, rose from the dead,

I live defeat, bow down in shed,

its silent bloom, becomes my lesson,

resilience, is such a blessing,

 

thus, let butter bell ring profound,

to blanket every human sound,

that is comprised of jeering power,

as mastery’s a cheery flower,  

 

for nothing compares, to courtly gavel,

where there’s such pride, amongst the gravel,

as daffodil, stands the test of time,

to forget such thing, would be a crime.