Hey look at the colour of yon yellow rose
(the incorrigible edges of crazy plants)
rest and gaze-out from a mountain ledge
(now put on a harness, your mate is the belay)
how lyrically blowing - a lullaby
(from an ageing punk, strutting his stuff)
and a picture window onto the pond
(where a gannet plummets – spearing a fish).
Anger into joy,
fear turns into love
lifting a circle
beyond any 2D
with effort - and glory -
spiral upstairs.
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