It's a sad fact
on this poor old planet Earth:
tons of feelings,
are wasted year after year
and tears shed,
that turn into water vapor,
only to worsen
the greenhouse effect.
Isn't it a paradox
that global warming
is somehow the deed
of ice-cold hearts
that leave others shivering?
Just think,
what happens
to love given away for nothing,
a gaze conveniently ignored,
an intention bluntly misunderstood?
Is there an incinerator
for old love poems
forgotten in a drawer?
Has anyone seen
a landfill
where unwanted kisses
are left to kiss the dust?
Surely, there must be a way
in this world of pollution
and toxic invasion
to restore those broken treasures
and bring back to life
forests of tender thoughts.
I'm not an expert,
I'm just inquiring:
is there a way to recycle
rejected inner beauty
and unrequited love?
I chop up all of mine and sprinkle it over my kidlets' oatmeal in the morning for breakfast. And when they swallow, their eyes bulge from the fulness of it. It's also really good toasted lightly and crumbled over swiss chard.--Charlie
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It seems that Erato added to this author's pen ~ scent of flowers from Minerva's garden; ~ and knowledge and science from Phoebus' library.
An impressive symbolism in "RECYCLE!" makes it a prime composition on ecology and human relations.
I salute You, Poet.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Lovely poem full of wisdom.
Love,
Susan