the roses are blooming: A Poem

inspired by the poetry of e.e. cummings

the roses are blooming

something i have never seen; your eyes,
alight with flames of flowers, are slightly
smiling; nothing is found in furrowed fields
which are not around here any longer

if you show me the reaching branches
of trees, their boughs grey with winter;
i see the slow descent of madness
fall upon the heads of the innocent;

i’ll show you crying skies above your
broken, out-stretched hands, bright springs and the
summer’s darkest nights always shorter than hoped
for; roses bloom without your muddled thoughts

though failing daisies fall; how many years
we have left before out bright future
without the hope of ever surfacing again;
your fingers tangle hopelessly among your hair

how did these days darken quickly, without
thoughts of blackening the skies, without the
insanity of forgotten dreams smashed against walls
with clay jars; the roses are blooming

©The Wild Poesy, 2012-2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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the roses are blooming: A Poem

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