Once in rhyme
A king did climb
And many a ditty
He sang so pretty
Into his gilded coach,
Which did not approach
His mental state
That of blank slate,
And not through lack
Of chalk in white or black
As it did speed across the sky
Leaving trails of glory in the eye.
Innocence sublime
He mentally did climb
All his high mountains
And bathed in their cool fountains
To bring him invigoration
As he rode in meditation.
Listening brought the guide
Nothing further to hide.
His prophets and seers gave
Nothing more than the grave.
Man’s inevitable ending
Not this life forefending.
Wisdom was his to offer
Anyone to find in the coffer.
The coffer of silence
Listening is its essence,
It is yours, as it is mine.
Be that innocence sublime.

With Love, David
© David Tenneson 2013.


About David

Devonian writer
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