The wood is dark.
The lark
Does not sing.
Will spring
Come once more
And restore
The sleeping rose?
Who knows
But one can grope
For hope
In the frozen ground
And pray for a change profound.
The wood is dark.
The lark
Does not sing.
Will spring
Come once more
And restore
The sleeping rose?
Who knows
But one can grope
For hope
In the frozen ground
And pray for a change profound.
*claps*
Thank you. Glad you liked my poem. Kevin
Hi! I like this poem! Tonight it’s so cold I’m wondering if spring will come again!! Best wishes, S
Thank you for your comment and visiting my blog. I’m delighted you like my poem! Very best wishes. Kevin