William Troup



A sepal, petals, thorns and nettles
   in metal, settles, worn and fettle!
   Summer, winter, upward high
      these monuments fly;
      derelict eyes ...


A bee, or three, as laurels recede
   to trees, they flee, warn and plea!
   Morning, evening, downward days
      these echoes replay;
      voices away ...


A child, wild, born and styled
   in piles, files, torn and smiles!
   Southern, northern, wayward plights
      their memories fight;
      dulling white ...


  • Christina S

    Oh my, you certainly have a way with words! Love the cadence and the rhyme. Another great poem!

    • William Troup

      Thank you for reading and your kind words :)

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