A bundle dropped in far off hut

A bundle dropped in far off hut
a lumbering pelican eyes shut

Flapping wings in departing glide
Amply leers at the starting slide

Slowly fades in morning mists
In wake and vortex strewn gists

On cotton pledgets by loving hands
skip and dance on burning sands

pranced by ponds and banyan trees
chewed on canes, combs of bees

Ebb and flow of many a tide
Cantor, gallop of youthful ride

hand in hand skip and dance
as fate casts a bemused glance

pitter and patter of tender feet
in time to steady trudging sleet

hushed reflect the fading eyes
and painful sear of broken ties

snatched moments on the sly
truth bobbles on many a lie

Kaput heart and beaten brow
Splintered yolk and broken plough

From hearty laugh to silent dusk
from cheesy tops to dried rusk

lustrous verve to barren dune
Blusterous fresh to dried prune

Fading display of blurry sights
Tangled play of st Elmo’s lights

Numbered days on weary ways
Befuddled slog in swirling clays

those swanky leathers now lay by rot
but The Cobbler’s anvil is searing hot