My Joy With Prickled Legs Poem by Mark Heathcote
My Joy With Prickled Legs
Lush green spokes of grass
rich and velvety deep
hedged with an impasse
of dark spiralling nettles.
This-was-my dream garden
my joy with prickled legs
this-was-my dream of Eden
boating on rolling river logs.
Frogs croaking jewel-like
knocking off the gentle dew
a face pure white; cloud lion-like
looking back, it was all a golden hue.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/6/2024 2:58:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
