Green seed leaves with open mouths
stretch tiny arms to embrace the sun
expressing wonder at their births.
Each triumphant dicotyledon
stands to worship each morning
religiously adorns the spring
with colour, freshness and hope;
saying prayers for this misanthrope
whose wintery lips are tight-sealed
since time destroyed his daydreams
those optimistic sunbeams
which filled his mind sevenfold
when he was a cloud-dwelling lad
in old make-believe ironclad.