My Beloved
My beloved poppies are starting to fade
Trampled down by heavy rains
Tossed about like colorful rag dolls
I lay on the humid grass
The rain touches my skin gently
A new perspective on the sky above
My poppies with their reaching arms.
My beloved poppies are starting to fade
Trampled down by heavy rains
Tossed about like colorful rag dolls
I lay on the humid grass
The rain touches my skin gently
A new perspective on the sky above
My poppies with their reaching arms.
Comments
“I’d change her sad rags into glad rags if I could
My folks won’t let me ‘cause they say that she’s no good
She’s a rag doll, such a rag doll
Though I love her so, I can’t let her go”
OK, that was stupid, but the poem rocks.
Thanks John…just trying a new thing. :) Be a more rounded person. :) Hahah!
– Boston Thek Imagery