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
