Do not plant your roses in this desiccated desert,

by Dave

Do not plant your roses in this desiccated desert,
they will die of frost and neglect.
Offer the pulsating womb of your garden
to the busy bumblebee, a worker with heavy knees.

Kick aside my cracked scalloped shells that tell
a story of a shore hugged, I was kissed once by
sea but am not worthy of her frills and edges.
I am south you are north, poles do not attract
they exist in yearning with worlds between them.

Take your seeds and sow them in the fertile
ground of valleys, not on this high, cold
mountain top, nothing grows in this hard bareness,
Listen to my voice. I raised myself above
The treeline to define my need of solitude.

I am a winter island above the clouds
and you are a pond choked with a rainbow
of summers glorious weeds.

-Dave Kavanagh

3 Comments to “Do not plant your roses in this desiccated desert,”

  1. Very charming and romantic scenes.

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: