- Non-Erotic Poetry
- For Old Time's Sake
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I dare not throw away those withered flowers
though almost faded beyond recognition -
In my bare garden fresh ones will not grow;
the soil's infertile and too tough to hoe
and all the world is filled with waiting, hours
In which the minute hand will hardly move -
slow time's sad tune, stuck in the inner groove,
is one long, wordless, whispering repetition.
- COMMENTS
HoneyAdoredabout 9 years ago...your garden will withstand the test of time, never give up and keep planting then seeds, I can still smell the roses...beautiful!
