![]() Born to bloom then dieA Poem by Gee![]() A seasons end, another's start , an old fellas view on both![]()
One final cut, then mower stowed
the gardens borders tilled, winter blooms placed neat in rows 'neath air now damp and stilled. On terracotta throne the rose a queen without her crown, sits forlorn, stark, 'gainst watered light all petals withered, brown. A brazier, smoke skyward sent as summers last burns slow, beneath the boughs of leaf stripped trees readied now for coming snow. The garden bleak all colour shorn the gardener gave a sigh, " nature, man, have briefest lives both born to bloom, then die " © 2018 GeeAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorGeeMilton keynes, United KingdomAboutDevoted family man and lover of life. Simply written, easily understood "stuff" for those without code breaking skills. You will NEVER need Google to understand me:) more..Writing
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