The Aloe Poem by Laurence Hope

The Aloe



My life was like an Aloe flower, beneath an orient sky,
Your sunshine touched it for an hour; it blossomed but to die.

Torn up, cast out, on rubbish heaps where red flames work their will
Each atom of the Aloe keeps the flower-time fragrance still.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: flower,red,sky,sunshine,work
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