Waiting Poem by Aron Blesch
Waiting
Trees on my street,
Branches covered white,
Your hunger is waiting for its muse..
Come and nourish,
Come spring come,
Come and clothe me,
With your naked hands.
This is really nice, I like your use of words........branches where I am are also covered in white and the ground as well..........Your poem warms it up a bit..mm. :)
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4/26/2024 1:02:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A good welcome song to the naked white snow