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The Sage

Rating: 2.5
The cat is eating the roses:
that's the way he is.
Don't stop him, don't stop
the world going round,
that's the way things are.
The third of May
was misty; fourth of May
who knows. Sweep
the rose-meat up, throw the bits
out in the rain.
He never eats
every crumb, says
the hearts are bitter.
That's the way he is, he knows
the world and the weather.
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COMMENTS
Dr Antony Theodore 09 May 2019
He never eats every crumb, says the hearts are bitter. That's the way he is, he knows the world and the weather. very good poem. tony
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