Poetry

It’s 5 O’Clock on a Saturday – 2/7/18

He says, it’s a long road home, but I welcome the wait,

I’m not above being known.

And the puddles reflect who I used to be,

When the trees used to call out my name.

 

-zu

Advertisements
Poetry

Garden – 3/5/18

The will to live’s in a garden, when you give a plant a home,

The plant will do its best, even if the soil is not its own.

Take a garden and mother it, mostly it will behave,

And even the temperamental, you will do your best to save.

 

-zu

Poetry

Reassessing – 21/2/18

Because Wordsworth was lonely,
He gave flowers faces; made them dance.
Imagined a dancing sea,
And found joy in the plants.
A poet, a lonely poet, he made himself smile,
Found a cheerful memory to put in his joy-pile

 

I have no daffodils, no waves,
Instead twelve sunflowers mine,
Each in reddened sunlight bathes,
Each of their faces shine.
I find my heart grinning along with them,
As each golden head dances on its stem.

 

-zu