A Gray Hair Prays
Sprang open Spring a box of rainbow rains,
And Summer rains led to your gold grains;
Juice oozes from your yellow, mellow grapes,
You play a kingly show with curvy shapes.
Morning mist floats, dancing through trees;
Fragrance of fruits sails, prancing in breeze;
Bees buzz and birds hum, granting us bliss,
And night flurry flows hissing me with a kiss.
After a great rise, comes a woeful fall,
And shows your fall my mirror on the wall;
Green turns into gold and now into gray;
A displaced gray hair does silently pray.
*A 1st Place Win* in the following contest (judged on Sept. 19, 2020)
Sept. 12, 2020
Completely Your Choice(12) Any Theme Any Form Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Copyright © Newton Ranaweera | Year Posted 2020
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