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The Red Geranium

When the pungent dust and smoke settles on empty streets and on the rubble strewn, bombed out blocks - when all colour has been bled out of the land leaving a shroud of deathly grey, what can we do but weep and let our tears trickle down onto that red geranium clinging to life in a battered pot balanced on the last windowsill left standing in our homeland.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 7/21/2025 5:06:00 PM
Life may not thrive in times of hardships but life in any state is better than the alternative. Thoughts your lines evoke, Paul.
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Date: 7/21/2025 2:43:00 PM
such touching imagery and words Paul, amid the chaos and destruction there is beauty with the image of the flower which brought a lump to my throat. hugs Jan xx
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Date: 7/21/2025 12:59:00 AM
Oh my Paul how heart wrenching and incredibly powerful this poem is! That little bit of life, colour and beauty hanging in there! Debx
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Date: 7/20/2025 4:27:00 PM
Your poem left me breathless! Such gentle flow and powerful imagery! Faving
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Date: 7/20/2025 3:12:00 PM
Oof! This one's a tearjerker Paul. Pass the Campbell's, please. Awesome poetry
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Tom Woody
Date: 7/20/2025 3:23:00 PM
You're welcome. Have a pleasant evening
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Paul Willason
Date: 7/20/2025 3:21:00 PM
Thanks for the comments Tom...though the subject matter of the poem and the referenced suffering of people is not something that should be tarnished with even a whiff of humour or word play. The poem moves on serious ground.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things