Sunday, April 27, 2014

BRAVE ASTRONOMICAL








friends ease away, or just vanish
innocence becomes a quilt riddled road
dreams gray, impossible
yet, rains continue to fall

and flowers continue to grow
life worth living, another day
the way it should be, everyday
not just yesterday


A true poet does not bother to be poetical.
Nor does a nursery gardener scent his roses.

Jean Cocteau 


















8 comments:

  1. Very true, Poetry comes directly form the heart.

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    1. Thank you, Vandana. nice meeting you.

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  2. You have a wide range -- never know quite what I'll find when I visit your pages. Well done!

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  3. A fine selection, Richard. I agree with Vicki I often like where your poetic journeys take us.

    Love the quote about the chickens - but it's true!!

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