I don't
understand why
my mind
drifts to thoughts
of you, in the
spring when I'm
alone in the woods.
The dew is on the
grass, and the small
flowers begin to
bud, the petals
slippery and wet,
glistening in the
morning
sun.
The birds sing
their symphonies of
praise, and the trees,
erect and strong, reach
to the waiting sky.
The rain shoots
down, and I
rest.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Online)
- Published: March 8th, 2025 18:37
- Comment from author about the poem: My latest book, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse is available on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/Its-Just-Skip-Jump-Madhouse/dp/B0DY4XDQYC/ref=sr_1_3?dib=
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.