#WritcoPoemPrompt6
The river that flows down the hill,
is never able to be a moment still.
The rocks and pebbles at its bed,
lie as steady as the dead,

The river wish to rest a while,
to stop being a stagnant wanderer.
The rock wish to travel like Nile.
"how sweet will it be?" she wonders.

The trees sway to the hymns of the birds,
They swing and wave to the skye.
The flowers are beautifully bred,
they habour the glowing butterflies.

The trees stare in astonishment,
they envy the beautiful flowers below.
The flowers said in amazement,
"wow! up up up the trees grow"

The flower haboured butterflies,
have not for once cease to flutter.
The birds continue to fly high,
they sing like heavenly choristers.

The butterflies wish to fly so high,
to see what the world look like.
The birds wish the flowers were nigh,
and they won't for nectar,hijack.

Moulded in the image of the Potter;
man was created from the dust,
with dominion over other mortals
to rule over all with just.

But the oliver twist in us lives on.
We do nothing but ask for more.
Blinded to what God has done,
we do nothing but ask for more!!




© Hazard. T