Grief is no walk in the park.

The Parks

If you alone walk to the parks at night,
A morning's dew will greet you in the eyes;
You dare beshrew the cold temptation white
The eve you hold the clouds above as lies;
The gardener would tend his roses red
Just as he had as long as he could mind,
Appreciate the great, the life he led
Await the day he'd leave the buds behind;
As of, a gravel path would call you forth,
A barest foot step roughly on the stones
And pass the hollow oak for all your worth
As quietly the blazed star atones;

You trip you on a sickle falling low,
Now feel how fall you, not quite so slow so.

Sonnet by weirdzarun
Read 522 times
Written on 2008-06-28 at 05:34

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I have read several of your poems. But you still manage to capture me with every word.
Great work man.