Weathered Thoughts
Wind Chipped and
Cracked lime
Droop down heads
heavy and Dry
leaves Brittle
and Crisp
All turned as one
facing the ground,
Vase holding them Still
Held in Stately Grace
The Petals Slipped
From fresh to dry
Blood, The stems from
New Boughs to
Gallows
Thorns bite Just
as Bright,
the Sharpness is
not lost on a
Discarding Grasp
1 comment:
Hi Brett!
your poem Well I'm still trying to understand it !Sounds deep!
I think you might be interested in Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (poetry).
Have alook at http://www.okonlife.com/
" Good and evil, our moral prison,
Joy and sorrow passing like season,
Fate in the way of logic and reason
Is the victim of far worse treason."
tc
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