My mind wanders through memories
of my hands,
digging in the soft earth,
barefeet,
stained a lovely shade of brown
and a jungle garden,
springing from the ground.
a tasteful depiction of a 'brown study'. Not sure if this color ever had such a lovely shade attributed to it.
how lovely our memories are...i believe we have thousands gigabytes stored in our thoughts..the good thing is, we can retrieve any thing we desire...as you wrote..they spring from the ground...stained with lovely shades...though some are stained with tears...nice lines my dear...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem creates a beautiful, slightly nostalgic image. It makes me want to plant tomatoes—I know it should be flowers, but the appeal of eating home grown tomatoes is pretty overpowering right now—and feel the dirt between my feet and underneath my nails. Peace, L&T