Sickbed Poem by james watkin

Sickbed



Honeysuckle, sprint to where
All spring have I goaded.
Hand in hand with Clematis -
Thereround your walls' employ is
Poignancy's clear-paned bed.

Piteous, down those old breathed
Robust walks, sun-descried.
What a boon if you should fling
A tonic of whose balms herein
Where lay I, sun-denied!

Tuesday, June 4, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: nature,sick
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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