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 HOT DRY HEAT

The flowers bloom,

Obvlious of the heat,

The hardy ones;

Like bougainvillea,

And ixora.

The sky is bright,

A blue sky for sure,

Cumulus; like bagged

Cotton candy at a fair,

The flowers bloom.

Some with thorns,

Some without,

Isn't life like that,

For those pretty ones?

The sky is bright.

You just have to look up;

What is it about azure,

The colour of wonder,

And of blooms,

Some with thorns.

Like barbed wire,

Keeping out,

And sometimes keeping in

Screams, even when

You just have to look up.

Those fearless birds,

Tired of chirping,

Sit and rest;

Some even preen on lines,

Like barbed wire 

© gillena cox 2024

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

MTB: Cascading in Fives;

REVISIT TO READ

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