Seeds

The seeds of doubt my thoughts encased,

  Donated by a thoughtless friend,

Unwisely given, unwisely placed,

  These seeds I dare not tend.

For if they grew to bear some fruit,

  What a harvest I could make,

A crop born of ill repute?

  In doubtful dust I'd rake.

So keep them from my sweetened soil,

lest they be ploughed in with my toil.

Reviews

[Kent Smotherman]

A very interesting piece which seems at once familiar and unique. Very enjoyable read and an excellent write.

[Ellen Clery]

Well put.

[PJ]

Many thanks for your review,
It took ages for me to read through,
But, then again, to be fair,
In essence, it is all there !

[Ellen Clery]

You're so welcome. Thank-you for your work which shows right thinking as the Buddhists would say. Very well thought and written. I identify.