The fierce wind blows, yet the dew won't dry
On the petals of the lone rose blossom.
Sparse thorns stand raw, achy reminders
Of the wondrous lost dream of yesterday,
When the two golden birds sat on this branch
Staring into the infinite mirror of their eyes,
Rejoicing in the warmth of their evening song,
Delighting in each other's pure presence,
Basking in the divine light of Nature,
And looking up to the ...
Wednesday 7th January 2015 11:22 pm
Alcoholic with sick on his shoes,
Sat on a brown wooden bench
In the middle of town
With his old dog,
Lacking good vision
Waiting for a meal
A dropped pasty or pie
A sandwich, perhaps rye.
I, was never taught in school
To be such a man
It was always
You could become a lawyer,
You could become a teacher,
You could become a business man
Never, you could ...
Saturday 3rd January 2015 5:03 am
Tags: alcoholic,Everyday,Life,Poem,poetry,society alcohol
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