This global pandemic causes confusion from social isolation.
In a virtual world without human touch - there will be irritation.
When burdens of life, echo like chunks of tumbling rubble
mind is misplaced in intense injustice - inflicting trouble.
With no desire for fake and scentless artificial flowers,
the soul is soothed by buds which flourish in April showers.
To sit in smooth stillness of silence, admiring nature's grace,
a paradise of petals, guide emotions to that peaceful place.
Windmill palm spreads its charm among yellow, white, lilac roses,
darling dahlia in hues of pink and white gaze at fuchsia poses.
Lovable lobelia and bewitching begonia hang from baskets,
above a colony of bees living under a pen for rabbits.
Bees buzz among an abundance of blossoming nectar,
their aim to *bee their queen's favourite honey collector.
A poet's eyes will always admire vibrant butterfly wings,
a poet's ears will always listen to melodies a bird sings.
A flower garden is a silent sanctuary - inspiring one's muse,
like rain after a hot day, refreshing buds in twilight dews.
If fate and destiny depended upon the sowing of seeds,
how would you cultivate ideas to prevent the growth of weeds?
The Silent One
15 August 2020
*deliberately spelt as bee (not a spelling mistake)
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2020
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