BARREN
There are no bouquets
of roses
In the flow of verses
my skill creates
for nothing can sustain
beauty in soil
where no seed
can grow,
an impoverished field
yields no fruit
where all hope lies fallow .
BARREN
There are no bouquets
of roses
In the flow of verses
my skill creates
for nothing can sustain
beauty in soil
where no seed
can grow,
an impoverished field
yields no fruit
where all hope lies fallow .
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
an excellent description of
an excellent description of the word barren. nice write.
Dear Joe
A deeper meaning to this has touched me,
That there is a barren waste, be it in a person or soil
Then things can be made fertile.
The soil can become fertile with the correct food,
Then the thoughts that make a mind as is yours young Joe,
There is no way your Spirit will ever be a void in the universe, there you will shine with the best there has ever been.
Even an empty Spirit has an aura that will be eternal, there is no such thing as not being,
"You Are", Joe, and that's final.
We will meet one space in eternity and outshine even a super nova,
Yours as always, Ian,
"We love you young Joe".
love waste lands..drove through it on a west trip
except cacti and flowers...road runners..lizards...even in Prypiat
life still flourishes from the radiation dump still..
but I like that seared and sterilized feeling the
poem brings
emotionally scoured....
I relate!
great poem!
thank U!