~
How sweet is the sound.
So sad and too bad
thy sort is short
and not enough to go around.
~
Vouchsafe, sweet winged goddess,
victory renown,
the comfort and coolness
too fleetingly found.
~
Where doth thy wingings
waywardly wend?
When deep in thy presence,
often is when
carestruck, barestruck,
and suddenly then,
in one fell swoop,
accidentally win!
~
Was it you?  Was it us?
Was it just happenstance?
The confluence of circumstance?
Know that by our losses,
we work to enhance
to girder ourselves
for another chance.
~
To win, to lose, to come out a draw,
to find from our losses once single flaw;
to the victor, to the triumph,
to the loser the raw
cold cornerstone
of a long time at thaw.
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Copyright © 2012 Marvin Loyd Welborn. All Rights Reserved.