Thursday, March 08, 2012


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.


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...


Anonymous said...

You are seriously talented.