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Surfaces! ©

Gordon Fjaelberg
Bridgend, Wales

On the surface of things
A butterfly's wings
Are bright, and the
Colours contrast,
But their brightness
Serves only
To lure some lonely
Young female
Who's fluttering past.
When they blend
With the view
Chameleons do
The oddest of things
To their skin;
With contra-rotation'l
Eyes, it's sensat'nal
How insects are
So taken in.
On the surface, you see,
Some poor wigeree
Believes it's onto
A winner,
So wigeree bumbles
And into range stumbles;
Ergo: Chameleon's dinner!

On the surface, some goats
Have long hairy coats,
All matted and tatted
And smeared,
But the pride
They're displaying
Is really dismaying;
They look so much nicer
When sheared.
It's been said
That your dreams
Convey more than seems
Apparent, when
Taken as read.
There's a message
Which wells up
From somewhere inside
Your head.
On the surface, a brain
Is pitted, if plain,
Yet who knows what
Lies there, recessed?
Can primaeval urges
Be rising in surges,
As many a pundit
Has guessed?

On the surface of seeds
Is little that leads
To hint at the
Treasures they bring,
For genetic encoding
Has seedlings exploding
With life, at the
Onset of Spring.
It's a useful thing, skin;
It keeps your bits in,
Without it we'd be
In a plight,
With its miles of
And blood vessels
Wending their way,
All tucked neatly
From sight.
On the surface,
It's true,
There's little to view,
But one fact-
Of which I'm enthused -
Is that skin,
(Treated rightly!),
Relaxes me nightly;
More so when a
Back-scrubber's used!

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