A Troupe Of Elephants

Giant feet plodding on porous crumbling soil

Journeying south where no man can spoil

On a corridor of green down a strait of life

No man to moan nor any residue of strife

………

Giants and dwarfs in assorted bliss

Where trumpets lift and born is the trace of a kiss

Mother and calf, on an empty winding road

Journeying together to a waiting abode

…….

Playground of the saints in the absence of man

No sin to chase no civilization to span

Branches rife to transform woodpulp to milk

As outflows love in tides of ivorian silk

……….

Cosmic freedom in the absence of a railing or fence

Beauty streaming through an open lens

Paradise to be found a few miles up the track

Where the night is painted in coats of black

…………

Darkness fills as a thicket falls to the path of sight

Where trickling tears collide as the trumpet’s flight

Fate slumbers as the weary feet finally rest

Endless freedom to roam and love’s bounty to nest

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.