My wife and I went to the nursery to look at the many mums
Even though she claims to dislike them all
Almost as much as begonias
But mums are to fall what pansies are to winter
Yellow and rusty red varieties
Some were pushing strollers with twins
And some were carrying them within
Some were wilted by an Indian summer’s sun
But most were begging for us to take them home
Ted, A good write from a bright mind... I love the non-political side of you my friend, I suspect you might say the same to me.; -) Peace, Ray
Oh Good! ! Short, simple(not all that simple!) , and lovely-to-the-point! A flair for surprise you have, Ted! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ted in pensive mood finding metaphoric sustenance in humanities flower-beds. Maternity is indeed the word my friend! Rgds, Ivan