“LAUREL AND ROSE WITH POPPIES I BEHOLD“
Pressing on with hope- That what I cannot see
Will one day come to be
In my youth I had striven
To excel in all things given
In after years I was slowly
Driven
All things in the past
Forgiven, resting places
Have arisen
The magic number seven
Opens the door of heaven
A busy week of six
One day given for rest
That all may be blessed
This is new to be here
Laurel and rose with
Poppies I behold
Before I had not presence
Of mind to see the beauty
They hold
The briar and the thorn no
Longer exist, giving way the
Pricks to one eternal thought,
preexisting doubts
Prone to share this Heavenly
Splendor, I seek one like I to
Ever press on to together
- when does a poem become a poen a thought sprinkled
inthe mind or written on paper
- a bridge betweem myself and the rest of myself
a pause in thought jot
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