Tears, Idle, Tears
Batool Idrish posted under
Tale-a-thlon S4: Poetry
on 2024-08-31
Each silver drop that falls like midnight's dew
Sliding down your ruddy cheek, is no tear
‘Tis silver dust sparkling through blue night sheer
Each drop, I'll gather, tomorrow to shew.
When the tempest’s gone, the sky powder blue,
Of another joyous day you will hear.
Casting away yesterday's gloomy fear,
Child, laugh and play each moment do not rue.
***
Tomorrow's morn, when you are a famed man
You'll pine for that lost childhood, away- gone!
And none will be able to cross that span.
A time gone, you'll rue, how green was that lawn,
Each moment is the universe’s plan
Each day past is shorn, when the present is born.