For Sunday Whirl:
Delicate shapes are forming
beneath an umbrella of
kaleidoscopic petals
longing yearning forever
the too blue skies of freedom
Impossibly tiny shrines
post apocalyptic tombs
hopeless, fearless and dreamless
perched on a mantle of peace
Until or indeed unless
that river of blood runs dry
still the deal remains uncut
I think a few of us had similar thoughts. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteI hope some petals will be kept safe and thrown up to the skies in hope
ReplyDeleteThe words took you to an interesting place. I hope that river of blood runs dry soon: the world is too full of acopalyptic tombs.
ReplyDeleteI'm with Jae. I want some of those petals free to float on the breeze and to inspire thoughts of peace.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
You successfully entered the thoughts of many.
ReplyDelete