Pure violet, a gentle start,
Loyalty held within its heart.
Innocence in ev’ry dark, soft bloom,
Faith's sweet scent within the room.
Too bad they have wither’d,
Too bad they have died.
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Author:
Si Bjerke (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 7th, 2026 08:18
- Comment from author about the poem: I would give you violets, but they wither'd all when my father died.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
This poem symbolic speaks to me of the temporality of all things. Nicely said
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