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open_on_sunday LJ Community
Jun. 13th, 2004 03:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
agilebritTitle: Mutability
Fandom: Angel
Rating: PG
Words: 100
Disclaimer: Not mine, they're Whedon's. *sob*
Written for:open_on_sunday's "Poetry" challenge
Notes: Inspired by Percy Bysshe Shelley's poem "Mutability."
Wesley unfolded the checked cloth onto the grass. He'd brought Fred to the park on one of their rare days off. Opening the picnic basket, they spread the feast in front of them. Her brown eyes sparkled when she saw that he'd made tacos. After eating, she lay her head in his lap while he played with her hair, and the flowers around the fountain perfumed the air.
With a startled gasp, he lifted his head from his desk to see Illyria's unearthly blue stare. And reality crashed around his head, making his breath hitch in his chest once more.
The poem:
Mutability, by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow dies;
All that we wish to stay
Tempts, then flies.
What is this world's delight?
Lightning that mocks the night,
Brief, even as bright.
Virtue, how frail it is!
Friendship how rare!
Love, how it sells poor bliss
For proud despair.
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy, and all
Which ours we call.
Whilst skies are blue and bright,
Whilst flowers are gay,
Whilst eyes that change ere night
Make glad the day;
Whilst yet the calm hours creep,
Dream thou--and from thy sleep
Then wake to weep.
Fandom: Angel
Rating: PG
Words: 100
Disclaimer: Not mine, they're Whedon's. *sob*
Written for:
open_on_sunday's "Poetry" challengeNotes: Inspired by Percy Bysshe Shelley's poem "Mutability."
Wesley unfolded the checked cloth onto the grass. He'd brought Fred to the park on one of their rare days off. Opening the picnic basket, they spread the feast in front of them. Her brown eyes sparkled when she saw that he'd made tacos. After eating, she lay her head in his lap while he played with her hair, and the flowers around the fountain perfumed the air.
With a startled gasp, he lifted his head from his desk to see Illyria's unearthly blue stare. And reality crashed around his head, making his breath hitch in his chest once more.
The poem:
Mutability, by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow dies;
All that we wish to stay
Tempts, then flies.
What is this world's delight?
Lightning that mocks the night,
Brief, even as bright.
Virtue, how frail it is!
Friendship how rare!
Love, how it sells poor bliss
For proud despair.
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy, and all
Which ours we call.
Whilst skies are blue and bright,
Whilst flowers are gay,
Whilst eyes that change ere night
Make glad the day;
Whilst yet the calm hours creep,
Dream thou--and from thy sleep
Then wake to weep.
