Clear by day,
Dark by night.
Moving smoothly,
through the palm of my hand.
This glasslike structure,
an idol to man.
A gift from above,
This crystalline piece of life to see.
Filled with life,
Both bug yet small.
Cleansing the world,
from its murky ways.
This relic of life remains unchanged.
-
Author:
Alfred Lord Tennyson (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 24th, 2019 13:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.