Stones Of Gold

My heart turns,
and sees the tiny fingers
brimming on the window ‘pains’.

No flowers grow in the green grass.

“Please don’t go Mother”
“Please don’t go”

I walk my life
and will die in the dirt.

The Red.
The Blue.
The Black.
The White.

Crumbling into my soul the stones of gold.

My heart turns,
and the flowers grow.
“I love you”

“I love you my children”



6 thoughts on “Stones Of Gold

  1. Greg Loon says:

    I feel for your words. I embrace the beauty.

  2. t h i n g s + f l e s h says:

    perfectly charming. tony

    • Tony, thank-you!
      I could feel a sorrow left behind as I entered this little school house, and as I walked away, I felt drawn to stay.. a Motherly instinct I think… Oddly, in reality, it felt nice.

  3. beeseeker says:

    This one simply has me speechless:
    So few words, so much connection.

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