Wilted the blossom
of planted dreams
out there on my
field of memories.
Time could not
force itself to
deposit
duration.
Pining away
with that
last breath
toward the bud.
yet the memory still persists by the blossoms when mingling in the breeze by the time and space as the last breath seems to preen to the bud by the green as the simple ripples in remniscence...............superb expression by the imagery when lucid, and of unique genere as the beauty when spendoured in the those sands of time, well penned,10/10, thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As simple as wonderful an imagery, indeed! Well done!