Wednesday, 11 June 2014

Opening a Locked Door

The man wore sunglasses and sat
In leafy bower without a hat
In sun; the storm was yet to come
The plants by spiders overrun.

A bumble bee came buzzing past
Intent upon his pollen task
Tomatoes on the vine now swell
A goodly harvest, I can tell.

I read out loud a poem or two
Grieving is so hard to do
A loss so final, so unfair
Can cause the strongest to despair.

The power of words, a fatal thrust
His hardened shell turned into dust
Emotion caught him by surprise
He was glad I could not see his eyes …

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

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