deepundergroundpoetry.com
Rockhollow Series: Spring-Heal
Title: Spring-Heal
Fifteen of Thirty
Unique Words: Eighty-eight
#NaPoWriMo19
I was quite feral in my youth
running wide landscapes of laid grain,
blissing out, in the wilds alone
laying lost in fresh Spring rain.
The wind would tear right through my youth
if choisya, arenaria and stachys hadn't been planted
and enjoying each day had not been wanted,
if roots hadn't dyed my raging spirit green.
Plants were unforgiving in my youth -
stroking my hair and finding truth
that some peace can be found despite circumstance,
with a plot, willing hands and the gift of time.
I pity and preserve parts of my youth
when dancing barefoot in your Spring 'shine
as though I accept I was feral and wild,
it is an emptiness no longer mine.
Fifteen of Thirty
Unique Words: Eighty-eight
#NaPoWriMo19
I was quite feral in my youth
running wide landscapes of laid grain,
blissing out, in the wilds alone
laying lost in fresh Spring rain.
The wind would tear right through my youth
if choisya, arenaria and stachys hadn't been planted
and enjoying each day had not been wanted,
if roots hadn't dyed my raging spirit green.
Plants were unforgiving in my youth -
stroking my hair and finding truth
that some peace can be found despite circumstance,
with a plot, willing hands and the gift of time.
I pity and preserve parts of my youth
when dancing barefoot in your Spring 'shine
as though I accept I was feral and wild,
it is an emptiness no longer mine.
Published 15th Apr 2019
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15th Apr 2019 5:08pm
if roots hadn't dyed my raging spirit green
That right there. . .
I am perpetually amazed at your rhyming, though I feel it's coming more natural now than forced. This is a wonderful thing. The cadence sings when you read.
That right there. . .
I am perpetually amazed at your rhyming, though I feel it's coming more natural now than forced. This is a wonderful thing. The cadence sings when you read.
15th Apr 2019 7:18pm
Though domesticated by technological 'civilisation', we remain wild at heart - and the poem (I'm guessing) would renew feral life into anyone who read it with an open heart.
