Open Poetry #44 |
growing season |
SeraphimBroken Member
since 2009-03-09
Posts 74USA |
You gave me rich earth, seeds from the sky of love, their roots planted themselves upon my ground. They grew into true love, tall, graceful and strong, sunlight of forever promise, and rain of grace, made perfection. You marveled at the rich growth of your loves nurturing. Then your insatiable hunger came... and with it your feasting. Pride, arrogance, and malice were your pangs of tasting need, little did i know that this great love was for a small season. You set your reapers upon me, without grace, tearing my crops at your whim, tasteful they were. Sweet as honey, the love planted, tasted in your mouth that it's savoring, left your want for more of me. Are you finished with me oh sweet loves scorn, now that you have ravished me at your harvest? Now that you have sated your hunger with my hopes, and lavishly drunken on the tears of my dying dreams, You fill your emptiness with my only last wish. Is there anything left of me to gorge yourself upon? Give me not another crop to yield, my fields are fallow and dry. Give me not planting kind words, that hope may bloom forth. Shall my planting hatred and contempt this season, so it's bitterness may poison your gullet, and your knashing upon me is your poison? Then, perhaps my naked starved ground, will lie in sleep, and bleed no more of your bittersweet growth, so i may rest, for a season. |
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© Copyright 2009 seraphimbroken - All Rights Reserved | |||
Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Either you put an elephant skin on or you move to a new receptive ground, I suggest. Great imagery and metaphors. Love, Margherita |
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SeraphimBroken Member
since 2009-03-09
Posts 74USA |
Thank you Margherita Maybe I should just go all out for that suit of armor i have had my eye on. |
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