A Poem About A Painting

A Poem about a painting

The Vine of Life
grows and splits.
The only thing that is clear
is the vine travels many ways,
flowers will bloom in their own time
and when they do
bees will come;
loving the flowers,
but not too soon.
Off to the side
A Rose does bloom
her bee is not yet seen.

 

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If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

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