Poetry for Change
Me, myself, and I
Received these beauties!
The colors are rejuvenating,
The smell is precious,
The thought, sender, is stupendous.
A flower has the power
Never to cower
But to spread its petals, languorous.
Its infinite patience glamorous.
Its fragility’s nothing short of faithful,
Its colors vibrant and bashful,
While its scent lodges in your mind.
Knowing memories are easier to find.
Creating and sending such a bunch
Is always a thoughtful hunch.
With fall comes a boisterous ball
Filled with wild colors, flaming reds that stall
Time and create a feeling that’s heavy in the head.
Worries abound: pandemic, school, health,..
Where to start or stop with the heaviness
That steals your breath?
Money, money, money, materialize and grow in the yard.
Grow into a thick trunked tree and seed me your harvest.
Don’t die out in winter and stop your perpetual
Rejuvenation of yourself, my family, and mine.
Without your harvest my heavy head turns to lead,
My heart turns to steely stone,
And my motivation dies a silent screaming death.
Poetry for Change 