Flower Of The Soul
Flowers of Hope
Flower Of The Soul
To be spirit, swirling, whirling
Free to spin air into golden thread.
Sewn with the stitch of tender loom
To which those who know heaven tread.
Beyond the flesh that recognizes
The face which owns the soul.
The years will flee furtively,
As fortune fades with false extol.
Who can stand proud as a soldier?
In the war which robs its own,
Grim is the path of growing older,
Both grand and humble shall bemoan.
The glory of recognition
Turns from merit into dust.
While dreams of lucky fruition
Tuck their dust into time’s trust.
I fee the anguish of the flower
I see the petals hopeless plea.
To see the eternal hour
Where gardens grow in infinity.
Into paradise man shall plant
The petals of his soul.
Fallen flowerage shall suffice
The loss that makes men whole.
By Jody R. LaGreca
https://jodylagreca.wixsite.com/suspense
The Beauty of Dried Roses
© 2014 Jody R LaGreca