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UNTITLED
| Open Poetry #28 |
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UNTITLED |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa 
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I picked a morning glory, roses, and daffodils held a bunch of marigolds, sweet peas, and climbed a vine up and further up, extended, stretched, and spread, till touching on the clouds with feet still on the ground. Beyond limits of reality flowers pave the way mixed and scattered time zones profess complicity and synchronicity ties seasons as if one in a picture perfect posy of awesome majesty. Ribbons dangle free, red, gold, with shades of me the past, the present, future, soon into pot-pourri, the sum of parts, an entity, bright in eternal rays reflects on destiny the complexities of soul. With vigor stirred forward back the swivel stick of life carries forward and brings down impossible connections seemingly irrelevant like footsteps in the sand obliterated by the whim of oceans on the rise. Fare thee well friends and foes; look how roses die then shoot again from old roots when the time is right and no human element whether dressed or naked, bare, climbs up and further up without what’s left behind. As of old the flowers grow, memory is tied to soul, and forgetfulness is fiction in realms as yet unknown! |
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| © Copyright 2003 Helen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Bill Charles Member Patricius
since 2000-07-11
Posts 10619highways, & byways, for now |
Honeybunch - excellent write, I love these flowers and colors... BC |
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Thank you, BC. I guess it's just a theory. |
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