Low she flies, though just out of reach,
fanning the flames of paradise
she lacks in plumage, though not in speech
for those who would take fair advice
and put aside their childish fret
before their life is all regret.
Too simple is the cutting blade,
but simpler still is what she prayed:
"See clear the fight that is not yours,
the battle born of fools in fog
that leaves no room for epilogue.
Born on the waves of further shores,
a tune, which all things hear and fear
may never come, is still most dear."
YOU ARE READING
Star Trek: The Original Sonnets
PoetryEvery Monday at http://wondertalesprovidence.blogspot.com I post a reaction to an episode from Star Trek: The Original Series. Thematically inspired by certain episodes, some posts have verses which I have adapted into a series of Pushkin sonnets. E...
