Amid the concrete towers of modern life
some ancient preference in us calls
for sunshine dappled bowers.
There is respite in leafiness,
in tangled vines, obstreperous creepers,
in row, upon nonchalant row,
of fragrant roses.
A butterfly invites our eye
to ramble from monotonies of
daily drudge.
We hearken back to some
lost paradise - a game, intent
on restoration of our addled brains
We find again,
delight in wandering
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Categories:
monotonies, garden, nature,
Form: Free verse