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~~ Master Plan ~~



Twisted limbs ‘pon bark-less trees,

gnarled an’ grotesquely formed;

impotent, misshapen appendages,

remnant of devastation’s storm.


Engendering ought o’ leaf or frond,

midst tangle o’ vine, o’ergrown;

dolorous stand ‘pon fallow ground,

pillage begat, marrow-less bone.


Drave o’ blast an’ bite o’ wintertide,

scarce o’ game an’ fowl alike;

yea, e’en stark midst summer’s heat,

effete, an’ dearth o’ parasite.


‘Tis but woe an’ sorrow full ‘round,

nigh aridity’s poignant portal,

‘tis judgment day!  ‘tis Armageddon,

swept ‘n vortex o’ time immortal.


Yet all is not lost ‘n the master plan

‘tis axe o’ duty lain to trunk;

plough o’ time turns furrow deep,

as earth o’ healin’ waters drunk.


Seeds o’ sower scattered abroad,

‘cross soil ‘n harrow’s wake;

‘tis Master’s plan ‘n love applied,

that e’ery soul might partake.