4 Jul


Take the flowers and run:

Run to far places where

I never come.

Take the flowers and run.

Though fragrant and sweet

You take them from me

They will die in your hands:

You will gather no seeds.

You will not sow and not reap:

Though you take them now

You will have nothing to keep.

They will wilt and wither and die

And your space will be filled

With dead petals and leaves.

You will stamp and you’ll crush

Them in efforts to flee

Releasing faint fragrance

Reminiscent of me.

You will turn; You will run

Your unending race…

There will be no more flowers

To gentle your pace.

                                                                                                       © jeanihess

Jeanihess Blog South Africa


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