Thursday, March 08, 2012

Clearing

Behold the shade
and every blade
of swaying grass upon the glade
where wood and stone
though once alone
have eked a tiny spot their own
a pleasant plot
that daisies dot
one petal shy of ’loves me not’
their sweet reprieve
from those that grieve
and fail to ever once believe.

4 comments:

Shirley said...

Hey Bob,

As always, you've described it so well that I actually believe I've been there. ;)

C. said...

beautifully written :)

really enjoyed this one.

rch said...

thanks!

Jack said...

You are seriously talented.