James Hartsell

James Hartsell Poems

I think of sins committed long ago,
when first the limbs began to bud. I think of blossoms crushed capriciously,
unseen by lover's eyes. I think of paying for the fragrance lost
by flowers not yet bouqueted. I mourn for all the years we bore the guilt
...

Bitter wind and bright green buds...
too soon...too late?
Who knows the whims of nature? They flow upon a stream
until the suns of unborn spring
...

When summer comes
and lushes earth with green bouquets
to shelter creatures deep within,
the heart remembers times
...

The Best Poem Of James Hartsell

Crushed Blossoms

I think of sins committed long ago,
when first the limbs began to bud. I think of blossoms crushed capriciously,
unseen by lover's eyes. I think of paying for the fragrance lost
by flowers not yet bouqueted. I mourn for all the years we bore the guilt
of him who crushed them.

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