Fairies And Foals, Foul Termites Poem by john wake

She is a foal, a foul feature of nature,
Born blind, unable to realize the right of light,
She is a fake, mimic’s man’s nature
But her defect is clear, colorless in the line of sight.
She cannot bare.

He flaps, floats, flies
Far, further than my sight clarity, he a fairy lies
Where is his grace, race to brace the flame
his sight is tragic,
More lame,
he just a termite in flight, his glow less than magic.

Your features fail
Definitions depicted in our minds
But your are mere characters that sail,
Sing, in this scene that we find.
When nature nails your place
On her face.