A Hundred Poems XII

A bent leg
one in the puddle

that grey sky
but not my heart

a red rose
that fragrance – hope

and these words
falling sprites

upon your tender soul —
what voice do you hear

heaven or mortal man before
that prostates himself unto you

spirit or flesh or both
what take you — love and life?
or a memory upon your trails
that message I await upon lips

Alone again, without you.

:: 03-23-2014 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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