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Contributed by Invierno on Friday, 17th February 2017 @ 05:14:56 AM in AEST
Topic: MiscPoems

Petaled wonders all;
some, in greeting the morning sun,
smile sincerely as a blessed touched person.
Other flowers carry on,
soaking the gift
with nary a turn, a flush to the raw source
that makes purple purple, green green, yellow yellow.

The field allows all;
equal dirt, equal sun, without prejudice.
Flowers live, get trampled, blown, torn and sprawl
in the field of changes,
yet ever the same
for every petal, stem, shades of all.

As one leaves another grows,
perhaps to sing in joy or limply stow a ride
on the morning living tide;
They come again in color, to play as others played,
to shed as others fled,
to rejoice or notice nothing,
to cry in pain or wonder what//'//s for dinner.

Such majestic opera;
happening every morning, every moment
in every field,
in kitchens and living rooms of
marble to dirt,
but every flower
is still a flower,
and so, of worth.

Copyright © Invierno ... [ 2017-02-17 05:14:56]
(Date/Time posted on site)


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Re: Resonance (User Rating: 1 )
by irisblue on Monday, 20th February 2017 @ 08:05:25 PM AEST
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This is amazing, beautiful and leaves me touched. I am working on a poem but after reading this I may throw mine in the trash lol. Amazing my friend.

Kara aka irisblue

Re: Resonance (User Rating: 1 )
by unknown_utopia on Monday, 27th February 2017 @ 10:03:35 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Depends on our state of mind
how we are effected by what happens around us,
all flowers are essential
but not all appreciated at all times....

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