FESTOONS

                                               

A day of festivity in fresh air,
Festoons forming a welcoming pair,
Gorgeous drapes of silky velour,
Incense rising, blessings pure.

Festoons swayed in quiet dreams,
One less than twelve, or so it seems,
One more than eleven, bright and true,
One more than twelve, yet out of view—
Not all were set in perfect row.

Flowers bloomed and withered slow,
Seasons faded, came and flew,
Sunrise, sunset, days renewed,
Dates turned, months became years,
Time kept weaving joys and tears.

At last, festoons in order lay,
A linear pair in grand display,
Eleven, twelve, and thirteen be,
Their dreams alive in festivity.

Festoons in a vibrant show,
Flimsy tango, merry samba’s glow,
Dancing colors, bright and free,
A celebration’s melody.