National Flag Day Poems: 26 / 500

Enigma With Flower

Rating: 2.9

Victory. It has come late, I had not learnt
how to arrive, like the lily, at will,
the white figure, that pierces
the motionless eternity of earth,
pushing at clear, faint, form,
till the hour strikes: that clay,
with a white ray, or a spur of milk.
Shedding of clothing, the thick darkness of soil,
on whose cliff the fair flower advances,
till the flag of its whiteness
defeats the contemptible deep of night,
and, from the motion of light,
spills itself in astonished seed.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ray Burleigh 11 April 2020

Soft, a flower within a flower

1 0 Reply

A painting floating on its own words.

2 1 Reply
Brian Jani 27 April 2014

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 

3 7 Reply
Brian Jani 27 April 2014

Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 

2 5 Reply