I’m Mistletoe
Don’tcha know
I lord it here above
Your lowly place beneath
Look up to me why don’t you
While you can
For soon I will be hidden
From your view
No more to contemplate
Between now and
Christmas tide
Above and beyond you
Will I hide
Within a verdant canopy
Parasite they call me
Sucking the lifeblood of this host
Though feeding from this tree
I take nothing that is not
By God’s good grace
Mine to take
For does not life
Have leave to live
By means it must
Itself discover
Why parasite
Wherefore thief
Primate
Thou art quick to judge
Oh species of infinite theft
Global destruction
Profanity of purpose
In misappropriation
Of geo-wealth
Capturing all
Creatures great and small
Flora fauna mineral
To enslave
Consume
Process to meet your own
Primitive needs
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author living in Kent, England. Writer of short stories and poems in a wide range of genres, forms and styles. A non-fiction writer for 40+ years. Subjects include art, history, science, business, law, and the human condition.
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