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Open Poetry #33
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time prophet
Member
since 2003-07-30
Posts 371
In New Zealand Amongst the Ancient Trees

0 posted 2004-09-13 12:22 PM



5 going on 6 months

A rare,
and beautiful
flower she be.
But me,
a biased godfather
you see.
Perhaps one day
she will tend
flowers in the garden
with me.

7 going on 8 years

The years
gather quickly
and many a flower
she has planted
when on visits
to me.
Poppies, Pansies,
iris, Hollyhocks
and tall sunflowers
for all to see.
But the most beautiful
flower in this,
her godfathers garden
is she.

11 going on 12 years

Bright sunshiny day,
friends and family
gathered at the bay.
A picnic, watching
children at play.
Water she loves,
she swims like a fish,
her godfathers gift
this survival skill,
one taught well.
But the watchers
attention was briefly
diverted that day,
and a child was missing
amongst those at play.
We found her later
that day in bushes,
not more than 500
yards away.
Beaten, cowering,
bloody, and bent.
Frightened, docile,
just like a doe.
Submitted,
to rutting stags.
Compelled,
to accept
a mindless act,
animalistic,
devoid of love.
Demanded,
by right of might
With brutality,
renders, sanity
displaced,
tears of depravity,
mind and body
disgraced.

11 going on 15 years

She sits, walks,
eats, and sleeps.
The eyes they see
but she never speaks
and no longer weeps.
No more flowers
in her godfathers
garden does she keep.

11 going on 16 years

A mother deprived
of her only child
swallowed the pills
until all were gone.
Empty pill bottle
carefully replaced,
she simply gave up
on the human race.

11 going on 18 years

The father talks
he tries to console,
he tries to reach
the shattered soul.
Eight years
have been and gone
nothings changed
it's still all wrong.
Her mind is frozen
in that instant of time,
for which there is
no reason, nor rhyme.

11 going on 19 years

She closed her eyes
last night,
they did not open
at daylight.
The flower that once,
was my garden
has gone.
I am lost…….

Tell me
where is that
alchemists stone
that can turn
this day to gold.
The green lane
that leads
to the wishing well
where grief
and memory
may be reconciled.
Angels of fire and ice
guard well that garden
for I tend it no more.

There’s not
many places
I have not been.
Nor many faces
of death not seen.
The dead
and the dying
are there
in their droves
I saw them all
as I wandered
the globe
trying to keep
bloodstains
off my clothes.
A godfather
fulfilling
a promise made,
seeking vengeance
of a rape most foul.
Until at Coober Pedy
some blood did spill.
It wasn’t a hunt
that provided a thrill
just damn hard work
For a promise
one could not shirk.
Now the task is done
And whatever time
For me remains
my hands
shall bear bloodstains.
No apology will I make
For my deeds,
I was just the gardener
Removing,
a couple of weeds.

© Copyright 2004 Frank Bennett - All Rights Reserved
ShiningWindHaze
Member
since 2004-09-06
Posts 138
California, United States
1 posted 2004-09-13 12:27 PM


I thought of people who have no love. It makes me sad to even think that thought. People who just don't care. It's truly sad.

- Haze

Chanson
Senior Member
since 2000-08-19
Posts 1559
Up Creek w/Out Paddle
2 posted 2004-09-13 10:43 PM


Breaks my heart~
froggy
Senior Member
since 2003-06-23
Posts 1893
Michigan
3 posted 2004-09-14 01:51 AM



Sad so sad.

:-(

I like this one.

BluesSerenade
Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549
By the Seaside
4 posted 2004-09-14 02:00 AM


Life is so unfair, and this reinforces the evil that lurks within.

You tell a good story time prophet, sad but true.

I'm kind of lost for words, but I did read this and thought I'd let you know.

I'm still pondering~

nakdthoughts
Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200
Between the Lines
5 posted 2004-09-14 06:57 AM


Tell me
where is that
alchemists stone
that can turn
this day to gold.


When you find out...if you find out..please let me know, too.

M

Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
6 posted 2004-09-14 09:23 AM


"No apology will I make
For my deeds,
I was just the gardener
Removing,
a couple of weeds."

Perhaps, that could be called poetic justice, or some 'master' gardener's way of setting things right. It's a sad tale. I find it ironic the 'weed pulling' takes place in Coober Pedy, an opal mining area which means 'white man's hole in the ground' according to one source. And of course, I'm left wondering if this is a fictional write, or from personal knowledge of a real event.
A most compelling write, time prophet.

Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
7 posted 2004-09-19 04:59 PM


Sir...now that I have found this,
I share the weight
of your heart...

time prophet
Member
since 2003-07-30
Posts 371
In New Zealand Amongst the Ancient Trees
8 posted 2004-09-19 05:28 PM


Thanks to all for reading.

Some things in life are beyond comprehension.

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