I was breath
and then the memory
of something without name
the taste of warmth
and wilderness
orchid made to bloom
clawing from a bed of rock
tangled up in weed
a blessing
for the taking
a lingering perfume
. . .
24 Thursday Aug 2017
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
Poetry about Life, Love, Music by Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet
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Thoughts and feelings made into words about the world and times in which we live ...
An orchid ? Too stiff and formal. Maybe a rose ! 🙂 ……………………..xo