A Random Thought
The rustle of leafs, imitates the sound of the rain.
Engrossing us from listening to,
The wind whispering to the trees.
A secret so fragile that if heard by un-pure mind,
It would wither.
The winds said “One apple tree growing in the desert makes a phenomenon,
But many make a paradise.”
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
