LXI.

Morning Glory Pantoum

The morning glories bloomed
When the sun rose.
Their death day loomed
As the morning came to a close.

When the sun rose,
The morning glories were sprawling.
As the morning came to a close,
Their Reaper was calling.

The morning glories were sprawling.
The green vines were entwined.
Their Reaper was calling.
They were soon to be left behind.

The green vines were entwined,
Clutching the ivory gate.
They were soon to be left behind,
Soon to face their fate.

Clutching the ivory gate,
The sun began to peak.
Soon to face their fate;
Their future was looking bleak.

The sun began to peak,
The modest umbrellas began to fold.
Their future was looking bleak,
Their looming rest was too cold.

The modest umbrellas began to fold.
The trumpeter was playing his last song.
Their looming rest was too cold,
But the memory of their beauty was lifelong.

The trumpeter was playing his last song
To honor the violet balloons,
But the memory of their beauty was lifelong,
These glorious, violet tribunes.