Beasts are born by the
Beating of Beelzebub's drum
And an inferno will rise
One day
Upon this slum.
The moon sometimes hides
Behind a shroud of dark blue,
And the meridian sun
Can burn holes
With its stark hue.
One day the butterflies will not
Always flutter near,
The weather will not
Always be serene,
The lake not always clear.
The deer will not always frolic,
The orchid not always spring from its bud.
The yield not always good,
Not always be peas in the pod.
But when I sit here
beneath this bough,
Holding hands with you in the shade,
It all seems to slip past me
And into the Evergreen Everglade.
K. Jared Hosein
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nature-evergreen-everglade/
