Life In the Withering Hours
How is it then we withered
in the fields of despair
beside the willow tree
with its stinging bees
in a time that is free
of these withering, withering hours
in fields of despair
thrived beneath these
swaying busy bee trees
buzzing and free?
We stood there
in withering fields grinning
ear to ear
and blessed and bonded with the poison in
the tall grass.
for the Lord has been good to us,
in these withering fields
in the scorching breeze
in the long willow trees
frigid and free
we in these fields of despair
we thriving beneath the buzzing bees
we applauded and turned and turned
when we withered and turned, withered and turned
in the tall grass of stinging bees
when we blessed and bonded with the despairing breeze
in dark, dark willow trees
when the Lord blessed me.
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2 thoughts on “Life In the Withering Hours”
You definitely have a feel for poetry, Ben! Good job!
This is beautiful, Ben. So good to have you back writing poetry!