![]() Garden SoulsA Poem by James Crouch
Splendid silver serpents
Atop a little hill Looking over gardens That stretch so far, until They slither under brambles And rustle until dawn Searching for an enemy That leave their souls forlorn Writhing wreathes of holly Staining the open view That tear right through the fabric Until three sisters weave into two The sceptre in the wild grass That stands like abandoned time It watches like a raven Make sure you know what’s right For the gardener tames the creatures They gather round his feet They do not dare oppose him As he sends the lands to sleep © 2019 James Crouch |
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1 Review Added on April 4, 2019 Last Updated on April 4, 2019 Author
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