Plants become weeds when they obstruct our plans (Richard Mabey).
Our path takes us
Through grey thorn scrub;
A shock of yellow butterflies,
Red ant-hills, shoulder-high.
Bathed in African light
We inhale the scents and
Recover the senses of childhood
In a landscape of the heart.
This wide country has space;
The thorn bushes are free to thrive
For now.
-
Author:
Morwenna (
Offline) - Published: June 23rd, 2022 16:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments3
(there are no weeds, in nature
just verdure, waiting
for its understanding partner..)
'The thorn bushes are free to thrive'
all beauty needs protection
for it attracts, too much attention..
'for now'
indeed!
(thank you! dear poet
this was such a lovely read)
Thank you for your understanding. It was a beautiful walk among 'weeds'.
I've never been to Madaascar, sadly. I'd love to have been.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.