Stagnant Pond

One day while trekking through the trees
In back woods where there blew no breeze
I happened on a putrid smelling pool
Where rusty jars of rancid junk
And moldy old debris had sunk
Into this sluggish hole of slimy drool

And far from where fresh water fish
Leapt from the lakes and with a swish
Swam in the babbling brooks where daylight dawned
Beneath the boughs of wizened wood
As still as death in shadows stood
This static and phlegmatic stagnant pond

I came across this murky mix
Like backwash from the wicked Styx
That reeked just like a brooding witch’s brew
Where filthy flies and larvae loomed
Above the fetid film that fumed
Upon this lethal and lethargic stew

And seeing how no flowers formed
Around this swill where insects swarmed
And spiteful parasites were slowly spawned
That’s when I crossed my heart and swore
I’d let my love and passion pour
Lest I become a lifeless stagnant pond

For when I saw this sunken sump
As noxious as a toxic dump
And pondered on this pool of misery
Where sickening mosquitoes seethed
And no refreshing breezes breathed
That’s when it suddenly occurred to me

I should let old resentments go
And let my loving feelings flow
Like living rivers rushing far beyond
Lest I be like that listless scum
And filled with bitter bile become
Just like a putrefying stagnant pond