Innocent to the untrained eye. A lie without purpose. Until you become wise or trained and know how with purpose and/or moral - 30 December 2005


Wise.

A sharp metal disease spilt over the walls –
Seeps deep as the innocent daisy calls.
Floorboards with woodworm caught alight –
Dies out below as the daisy bites.


The white petals vine with blue, flapping heart.





Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 1272 times
Written on 2005-12-31 at 00:37

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PoeticProcrastination
I love this poem. Your use of rhyme is haunting and beautiful rather than forced, if you know what I mean.

And, no, you do not know who I am, but I enjoyed this poem very much and decided to tell you so :}
2006-01-11


Zoya Zaidi
Hi, John, This on has rare beauty!
Love it!!!
"The white petals vine with blue, flapping heart."
So beautiful!!!
I am speechless!!
((((hugs))))
Love, Zoya
2006-01-02


Christian Ward
A well crafted poem. I love the images that you've painted here, so vivid.
2006-01-01



What's on the otherside of them walls, I wonder.
Makes me think that in the end we are all fertiliser
in the end....

Bravo!

RK
2005-12-31


AmonTheDark
as untrained as most eyes are the unseen is more clear than that of the seen i like this poem
2005-12-31