Poem -
garden jars
black patch
winter's land
midnight waits up
call's
command's
my presence
there
on frosted grass
walk out
walk on
my bare feet
bare
bare feet bare
on summer's chair
in winters air
in winters air
and midnight waits
beckons
insists
look up
gaze
look up
at
this
all my stars
are here
are there
on
black patch land
in midnight's lair
and midnight air
owns
all my stars
traps
all my stars
in garden jars
then
flings them out
away
so far
too far
away
a spilled spilled jar
M P 25/12/21
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Comments
My Dear Marion,
Life began in the Garden Of Eden, and even today, we find ourselves lost in the beauty of Garden Paradises. Your beautiful poem takes its readers to that special place that we all share with Mother Nature.
All my love,
Larry xxx
Thanks so much Larry...X
I dont know what it is about this that I like so much ... maybe its the endless possibilities, or the layout ............................or maybe my jar fetish .......................................... maybe :) x
Do you ever sit out in the garden in the early hours Nev? I am often compelled and always barefoot.
If you do you'll notice you get your very own patch of stars, your very own garden stars...so close, all yours but...well...not really, you know? It is impossible to own them...just like everything else in life...not ours, not really. Thanks lovely man x
I often do that Marion & quite often barefoot too .. oh' & since I have no neighbours, occasionally in the buff .. not at the moment though, or my buff would be tinged with blue ..
It is quite compelling isn't it & your description is just perfect ..
If we dont catch up again before midnight my friend, here's me wishing you a healthy, safe & better New Year ........................ N xx
Ha...too much info Nev...protect your butt at all costs 😄😀...you too my friend, I sincerely hope the new year is everything you might wish it to be xx