Ancient (Remove filter)
: The Barren Tree :
It grew in the wilds, a sentinel growing tall,
A mighty yogi in presence, embracing it all!
Branches reaching out, to the skies in a plea,
Seeking for the strength - to live it's destiny!
Its ancient bark, a wrinkled, weathered hide,
Tells a tale of the time's, swiftly flowing tide.
Inexorably which has grabbed, life in a churn,
On and onwards to - the lands of no return!
...Friday 13th September 2024 10:08 am
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
6 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
8 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
9 hours ago
John F Keane on A Cut Above
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
12 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Fallen Leaf
16 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
17 hours ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
18 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
19 hours ago
Hélène on Elementary
19 hours ago