Flying Kites

Published September 12, 2013 by Kathleen's Writings & Art

2013-08-29 16.05.27

Raindrops on a midsummer day,

A chapel where we go to pray,

Tears from angels at our diversions,

A generation fully conversant;

We each fly our own kite, puzzling

To make it presentable – not trite,

Be it notably spoiling,

Or exceedingly valuable;

Hearts of material hunger render us sad,

Tears from angels at the loves we stab,

In due course our actions stacked,

Reminiscing this –

Perhaps.

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