Poured the fellow some dew and dried up droplets of gaiety,
The last black mare had left into a field of lemon trees.
All left was letting laughter graze on his back,
Lilacs spring from ears.
He said: “They’ve grown numb out there
But in here there is nothing to fear,
‘Cause we’ve got solace.”
Let’s drink up sunlight.
Plow the fields of dejection
And enter human perfection,
After Planting
Seeds of


~ by Aquatic Poetry on March 12, 2013.

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