When I think of green

The greenest green of my freshly cut back garden,
Of an early summer evening
Just before the sun escapes the world
Behind The Baran mountain
Is a green I will call upon when green is out of season

This moist, lustre filled green
Is wet with showmanship
Of gold medal smugness
From years of perseverance
And early morning alarm calls
And sacrifice in pursuit of glory

The pride in green is beyond words
And enjoyed in full,
Partly from the effort given to
achieve this delivery of time framed perfection
But mostly, because it never fails to catch my breath

Poetry by 1LFD
Read 32 times
Written on 2021-06-08 at 22:43

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