And in that grove, upon that heath
where we lay down to sleep
they wove, for you, a wedding wreath
from tears they’d made you weep.
With thorns, entwined, to bite my brow
they wove, for me, a crown
to mock me, as a sacred cow,
and cast me as a clown.
But in that grove we slept secure
in love, deep as the sea.
With laurelled love
we could endure,
like Christ, nailed to that tree!
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Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 18th, 2020 09:30
- Comment from author about the poem: for our beloved, misguided enemies
- Category: Love
- Views: 31
Offline)
Comments1
Well said, Kevin! Nice pic too!
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