I wish there was life
In this withered garden;
The flowers and hedges
No longer lay in bloom.
In this withered garden;
The flowers and hedges
No longer lay in bloom.
What fruit has fallen
Lies half eaten—dying—
Rotten are those succulent
Savory fruits once enjoyed.
Lies half eaten—dying—
Rotten are those succulent
Savory fruits once enjoyed.
Seedless and ever barren,
It is forever winter here.
The once sacred garden
Is now profane and exposed.
It is forever winter here.
The once sacred garden
Is now profane and exposed.
No more is it my sanctuary,
It lies useless and ruined.
Its warmth is now the frigid
Cold agony of a tomb.
It lies useless and ruined.
Its warmth is now the frigid
Cold agony of a tomb.
2024 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: January 17th, 2017 01:48
- Category: Nature
- Views: 70
- Users favorite of this poem: Michael Edwards
Offline)
Comments4
A pleasure to read - I hope you will be posting more.
Thank you for your feedback. Indeed, I will be.
THANKS FRIEND ~ For a very elegant poem with a very wintry tale. I am sad that your poem is not just about a Winter dormant garden (with anticipation of resurrection in the Spring) but a WITHERED GARDEN that is well past its "sell by date". It is even sadder when such a Garden was once the playground of our verdant Youth. Thanks for sharing ~ more please. Please check my Poems ~ thanks BRIAN (UK)
Thank you for your feedback and for engaging with my poem. I will be posting more for sure and will certainly check out your poetry too.
Awesome write
Thank you!
Welcome
Welcome to MPS! Excellent structure. Hope to read more tomorrow! Again, great job!--Christina
Thank you so much!
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