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The Firefly

Rating: 5.0
Born from rotting grasses damp
Still the daylight thou must fear,
On my scroll thy tiny lamp
Scarcely lets the words appear.
But on stranger's dress from far
Shinest thou a tender star.
Or when wind-borne on the gauze
Of my window making pause,
Small thy phosphorescent beam
As a fairy's eye doth gleam.
From the rain you safely hide
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COMMENTS
M Asim Nehal 11 November 2016
A wonderful firefly. The birth is amusing and life a lesson.
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