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Insects

Rating: 3.1

These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard,
And happy units of a numerous herd
Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,
Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings,
How merrily they creep, and run, and fly!
No kin they bear to labour's drudgery,
Smoothing the velvet of the pale hedge-rose;
And where they fly for dinner no one knows -
The dew-drops feed them not - they love the shine
Of noon, whose suns may bring them golden wine

All day they're playing in their Sunday dress -
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Emmanuel Sighauke 09 September 2006

It made me think: the insects sometimes seem not to show that they notice the world is ridden with problems...

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