Poem -
PASSING THROUGH
I do not complain
I bloomed so very long
I do not mourn my demise
I'm too long in the thorn
I do not miss my beauty
Or my fragrance
Once strong
I lament not my youth
Or my freshness
Long gone
For my pleasure lies watching
As new buds are born
Though I harbour no wishΒ
To stay
Linger on
And I have already choosen
My last resting place
Just left of the daisies
By the wrought iron gate.
Marion Price
(2018)
Β
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Comments
beautifully composed Marion. always such a pleasure to read your work
Thankyou Lisa xx