Wandering the path of wilted flowers,
For lack of loves persuasive spirit,
Weeds they called them then, and now,
No need of them in Ivory Towers,
Everlastings they prefer, of live bereft,
Colourful replicas, arranged, in Chinese vases,
Those wither not in death,
No butterfly will land, nor does a beetle break a leave in theft,
Plastic as is the deer that jumps, the eagle flies,
Across the paintings on the walls,
Beneath St. Francis, long forgotten prayer,
A monument of plastic lies,©06/07/2012
fee
Ron
it moves me back and forth and through
its images and their suggestions.
One of your best, truly.
john