This came out on a quiet Sunday afternoon at the behest of my two little girls. They supplied the words and the scene while I mashed it all together. Quite contrived, but such a fun exercise. On a bright and sunny morning,Where the grass grows wild and green,And the colors of the rainbowWash all the flowers clean, The butterfly came fluttering,And sat her light self downUpon a black-eyed Susan’sCrisp and golden crown; And was about to sampleThe nectar, filling, sweet,When, overhead, she heard the buzzOf interrupting feet. “My kindest salutations,To you my fluttering friend,I come with hope to partake ofThis black-eyed Susan blend.” The butterfly turned to him,Said with a quick Ahem,“A hundred others sway here now, Why don’t you visit them?” Then with a slowly growing smile, Replied the clever bee, “A meal is so much better with The proper company”.
The thought had come and swiftly goneAt least a dozen times that day,Then like a close and dear friend,It caught itself and chose to stay, And cause a stir in Ali’s heart,Who gently put his burden down,Then stretched his sore and ailing selfUpon the parched and dusty ground. And where he lay upon the dust,The burning sun shone down uponThe son Medina doted on:Ali, the soldier, scholar, scribe. How could a poor man like heWith not a dirham to his nameAspire so, he shook his headBut considered it just the same. Good men of higher standing tried,But everyone had been deniedTheir wish to marry Fatima,Sweet piety personified. The crisp adhan cut through the airAnd shook young Ali from his thoughts,The lowly water carrierBroke from his work and made for prayer. And as he found his lips completeThe call to claim the harvest high,The indecision left him, forIn every thought does action lie. The soldier ambled out of prayer,And saw the man he dearly loved,The Prophet, making for his home,His fragrant scent perfumed the air. With quickened heart and pace to match,He came to where the Prophet was,Who turned around and with a smileSaid thus to end the pregnant pause: “Upon you Peace, Abu Turab”,To which Ali responded andProceeded to articulateHis plea for young Fatima’s hand. The smile upon the Prophet’s faceGrew brighter as he drew AliTowards him, then the words he saidSet Ali’s tender heart to race: “And what shall be my daughter’s dower?”,To which did Ali promptly yield,“The worth […]