Poem: 3
Standing out the pale world colour,
Just the unique little flower.
Each unwished rain drop, the other flower on, struggling not fall,
But the hardsounding thunder: the diverter of goal,
And the unluck, to some seem, outcome
Washing the other flower colour, out of determination firm,
And dropping to the wanting destiny next;
Watching , unknown jealous the other brothers zest,
Who with every diminishing height, the fragrance enjoy,
And falling to the beloved mud ground, lie a lad, play boy.
But now the little beauty such, the might, the nature fade,
And the every drop, for little flower, out high invade,
And the laughing flower sight, the thunder himself forgets;
And the god himself, for striking sets
And turns away, his glourious creation seen,
But the rain drop each, to be fresh flower drop,keen,
But holding out the pleasure jealous drops
A beautiful out streached-winged fairylike hops;
Washing the flower little, the purified drops,
Let the little beauty so stand on,
With the beautiful curl and smile on worn.
(the little flower: em)