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Poetry by Santiago del Dardano Turann 

Santiago lives in San Francisco, California.  Visit his site.




© 2011 Santiago del Dardano Turann







The orchids do not primp nor do they fard

With translucent sunlight's creamy glare

That streams down from the ceiling to bombard

Them in the sauna of the humid air.


Beyond indifferent to their vibrant colors

They are a void to feeling and to thought

Or a sense of their own tropic splendors

Which Nature for gross practicality wrought. 


It’s only man who can respond to beauty

And see in inert matter its potential.

But is this simply our brain’s chemistry

Or another quality that’s external?


Perhaps it’s both in some unknown construction.

The orchids would be beautiful if they

Were growing deep inside the jungle hidden

Where no man had ever come their way.








All work is property of Santiago del Dardano Turann.




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