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Deborah Bloodworth

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Member Since: Jul, 2007

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Popular Poetry (Poetry)
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The Clock
by Deborah Bloodworth
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Deborah Bloodworth
•  Chalkboard
•  Memories & Make-up
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           >> View all 24


Lowly buds Stand alone
Still fixed with hesitation
Sit idly by Never cry
Awaiting transformation


Seed Fertilized,Planted,
Nourished,Tilled 

Another reckless harvest

The Soil,The sun,The air,The rain
Divided by the forest

A careless cropper stands his ground
Digs up viciously by the root

It tells little
Of the dangerous muse
Leaving her voices mute

Garden blossoms
Hearty trees, Verdure
The only growth we save

Yet as a storm cloud quenches
So shall we rise
Like a phoenix from the grave


If my heart is a poem
Not a weed

I too shall beat again

Only there is no earth
No water, Light nor sky

Much to my distain

We love all things of earth
Water, Flora   Even rock


 From a branchless trunk

 open palms

replace hands on a clock 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Reviewed by John Meddling 5/2/2010
Hi Deborah, We met at at the department store one Saturday, and I have greatly enjoyed your writings.., especially "The Clock. Some of these writings you've poured your GUT PAIN into it.., "Sane Madness." Nevertheless it's very good work! Thanks to you I am now a registered Authors Den member. I look forward to reading more of your work and hearing your stories.
Reviewed by mike schrandt 7/31/2009
Congratulations are in order.There are so few things we have in common at a younger age,then realize years later.I think the idea
of suffering for your art is a tortuous predisposition.Where love
truly exists,whether for person or purpose...is often entangled.I like this more than I should.
Reviewed by Felix Perry 9/7/2007
Excellant write with a moral or platitude that shows all too well that life is just too dam short.

fee



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