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Field of Thorns
While walking with intrusion upon the light of morn
I stumbled across a field of thorns
The ghastly things were everywhere
Standing erect and poised without a care
The field was devoid of other weeds
It seemed to go on endlessly
Each bush was trimmed with precision so fine
I wondered what gardener had wasted his time
A path had been hewn in the middle of the field
I paused to ponder while time stood still
Should I take this detour or stick to the road?
Heightened anticipation overshadowed my woes
I gingerly placed one foot on the track
Ignoring a small voice that bid me ‘go back’
I increased my stride from a walk to a run
Determined to forge ahead until I was done
The road was winding with considerable twists
I faltered for a moment as I did not expect this
But I gathered myself and picked up the pace
The rising sun and I were caught in a race
With every muscle tired and aching and straining
I wondered just what I would be gaining
Was this tedious trek more that I could bear?
There were stones and pot holes everywhere
I was gazing ahead when barely within my sight
I spotted an oasis of green glistening with light
My heart grew wings and lifted my feet
As laughter brushed my lips softly but sweet
I met beauty so humbling I was cast to the ground
My senses reeling as my lips made no sound
My vision was restored in this field of thorns
Captivated by a rose in the fading light of morn
Copyright ©
Mary Scott
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