The World’s Future – A poem for Kira’s Sunday Scribbles


As I followed a trail

Through wind and the hail,

In a glade she stood,

The Queen of the Wood.

Above her head she held aloft

in gentle hands, so small, so soft.

The glorious seed,

In her strong voice she decreed,

“Behold the future is here!”

but before I drew near,

The whole scene changed,

The wood rearranged

I fell to the ground

And a sapling I found,

Growing strong and straight.

Then I knew my fate

Was to tend this tree,

For it’s destiny

Was combined

With the worlds future

And Mine.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 28/11/2018

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People are far too complicated to be able to describe in a few words so I am not even going to try.

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