A green sepal that warps and holds the petal,
And those thorns that pricked my limbs
Upon a common summer's morn
As I walked to school on the hill
And cluster of dew and early morning buzz of a bee or two
A desert breeze caresses the face;
A caper of birds in the trees
All these scenes haunt and play witchcraft on me!
Early morning buzz of a bee or two plays witchcraft..interesting musings..thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very interesting poem on childhood memory with a green sepal that warps and holds the petal, And those thorns that pricked my limbs. Expressive entirely and nice sharing really.10