![]() Flowers Set on Tables - 2 of 5 **A Poem by Paris HladThen, I climbed to the summit of a mountain, One that overlooked a bed of soft clouds, With the summit of a higher mountain,
Far off in the distance.
And I beheld a mighty trebuchet And a line of many goat-like men Who waited on a turn to be flung To the higher mountaintop.
But I saw that no volley succeeded, And that caused me to wonder What was below the clouds That softened the fall Of the one who fell.
For I saw that a lift was lowered To raise the fallen back to the summit, So that they might seek success again, Without having to re-climb the mountain.
And thus, I began to imagine A blanket of white feathers, Made from the wings Of innocent angels.
And I marveled at the reasoning of the goat-men Who were flung to the sky, knowing they would fail, And yet, fall into a soft and comfortable breach.
And I said to myself:
“This trebuchet is an invention of marvelous jest, As I have witnessed no incidence of success, And know not what success might land on -
Happiness or rocks?”
And I admired the delusions of fools, As I could find no fault in their intentions And suspect it is better to presume failure In a bed of clouds and comfortable feathers Than to achieve success in a pile of rocks. © 2023 Paris Hlad |
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Added on February 15, 2023 Last Updated on February 15, 2023 Author![]() Paris HladSouthport, NC, United States Minor Outlying IslandsAboutI am a 70-year-old retired New York state high school English teacher, living in Southport, NC. more..Writing
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