barefoot in meadows
She never tries to please people
Because she saw how well
It worked
How the stage became set
How the self became met
With applause
How the bar became raised
The hoops stacked and stacked
The mountains too high
And praised....the whole act
Untill the roses thrown
With such abundance and cheer
Became debris piled high
Became prisons of fear
So she learned to hate roses
And every person who owned
them
All the scent of the colours, every
thorny fake stem
All the wrappings and trappings
the ribbons and ties
All the thorny fake people
All the flattering lies, so...
Now she grows her own daisies
In her very own sun
Running barefoot in meadows
Pleasing none and no one...
But herself...
M P 13/9/21
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Reminded me of lines in a loved song!!" give her rain and she'll find the rainbow, give her thorns and she'll find the roses, give he sand and she'll find the sea, just see the love she found in me!" your writes are classics like this Marion! awesome!.................................Jim
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This is worth a whole bunch of pins if ya ask me .. okay, so maybe I'm thinking of a bouquet .. you got em our Marion and for the record,
I much prefer daisies too :)
Aw...thankyou x
my pleasure :) x
Marion never a fan of rose only when writing about them and always in a bad light.
For I see your comparisons and share your insights too.
And your well written poem and it's many truths show you as a great observer of life and its denizens both good and bad, true or false.
Not really a daisy or roses man more of a forget me not person.
And like your poem in what it has to say, I'm glad it's that way. x.
Thankyou fir your love comment Shaun...greatly appreciated x