Scarce for a moment a gloomy grimace, <br />A sad looking face nor curt countenance, <br />All-knowing smirk, nor haughty arrogance, <br />I wonder whence flowers get such good grace! <br /> <br />A child is born with angel’s easy grace, <br />This goodly grace soon to a grimace turns <br />As this human bud grows to get grown face, <br />And is ne’er the same till childhood returns. <br /> <br />Like humans some plants are wildly grown weeds, <br />Yet, while the weeds forest fragrance far spread, <br />We, human weeds, spread forth foulest of deeds, <br />Forcing all neighbourhood to turn its head. <br /> <br />An if one distant day a child is born <br />With a grimace of frown, flowers shall mourn! <br />______________________________________________________ <br />A simple sonnet with three quatrains, abba/cdcd/efef, <br />and a Volta, rhyming gg. <br />______________________________________________________ <br /> - Sonnets | 09.02.07 |<br /><br />Aniruddha Pathak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-flowers-shall-mourn/
