We’re enthralled
By your power,
Scythed for love
Handsome flower;
Caught by eye
Within our storm,
First be-felled,
Tall trees with form;
Beauty’s life
Always be claimed,
Plucked and ravaged
Sweetest game,
When consumed
Its virtues maimed,
Yet never did
Lend its name;
Goodness hungered
Where there’s none,
For beauty’s made
Never won.
Cheung-Ling Wong
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