daisy petals bind
the piney forest needles
where the wind forgot
while I said love not
to the hay scent’d sunset
in the scythe made rows
of the midnight lanes
in the fallow moonlit fields
where a white horse stays
Poetry
daisy petals bind
the piney forest needles
where the wind forgot
while I said love not
to the hay scent’d sunset
in the scythe made rows
of the midnight lanes
in the fallow moonlit fields
where a white horse stays
Loved it, particularly the last stanza as usual. Nice work Sir.>KB
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Thank you, KB.
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love the imagery ….
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Thank you, Eileen…and your Island Purge, certainly vintage you.
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difficult to find space for those longer thoughts
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Everywhere I look an empty space in no time at all somewhere else…
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Absolutely beautiful.
Love it.
With regards,
mei
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Thank you, dear Mei.
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