When hands extend — the orchard blooms —
A richness steeped in unseen Grace.
Its Leaves murmur in shaded hymns,
“All is well” — the branches hum.
Affection swells, a crimson sphere,
While Joy drips soft, like golden dew.
Serenity sways — a quiet hymn,
And Hope ascends — a tender vine.
Kindness glints through the clustered green,
A sunlight threading every shade.
Peace hums an air that soothes the roots,
While Love burrows — enduring, deep.
No soil barren, no hour lost —
The Orchard sings — a life complete.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Online)
- Published: March 24th, 2025 13:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Eugene S.
Comments2
(Affection swells a crimson sphere, while joy drips like golden dew) now there is a lovely line. Your word magic is amazing and to be envied. Like Eve you tempt me with your apple. A peaceful and serene poem of exquisite tranquility. I loved it and for that one line a fave.
Thanks Soren I always look forward to your feedback
Simple, beautiful, and an understanding that can only come from experience. 👍
Thanks for sharing your feedback Eugene I appreciate your support
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