Delight on high… a poem



Just a little bite, a little morsel if you please

Something to pick me up from this surrender and disease

And, yes, I do realize the application here I make

For the morsel, which I behest is not meant for mortal’s sake

Through the generations were the stories often told

Of those who ate upon the food and walked on streets of gold

But here am I upon a land of solid rock and ground

Sweeping past the entrance of the devil and his hound

Crumbs would be a welcome sight tumbling down from on high

Collected in fields of buttercups and on wings of butterfly

Bold is it for a simple man to query such a deed

Insomuch to save his life, his soul, his path, his plea

What answer may await a fool such of this to even ask

Pretending he is of a station while cloaked behind a mask

Life-giving and a glory for all who are deserved

Yet here am I in restless struggle beaten and unnerved

Oh well, ‘twas worth the effort in this a hopeless quest

A game to lose as Dante in his final act of wrest

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