Ancient Ruins (day 473)

Why do we package thee in thine orient so
Bottled with majestic silks that flow
Perhaps the artisan upon whose brow sow
Those splendid desires, a child’s mind set a glow

Does the coffer choose the wisest of paths
That leads him home in times he hath
But lose not the proffers eldest wishes
Always gone the food from the dishes

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *