Flying Pigs Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

In the air
Flying pigs
all
of colors
different
they made
a rainbow
but disorganized
another Babel
threw.

there were flowers
hungering
with open mouth
though bending
for night dews


Why be the night late
as of to-night?
The manna of the dews
why be withheld?
Ah! Night sovereign-like
asserts his prerogatives
absolute:
then
of a sudden
rained to thankful whispers
the manna of rain dews
the promised gift

And after all a prime
Sovereign.