roslyn ross - small stones and other poems
Thursday, September 29, 2011
The apple
A pentacle is hid within
the gift the goddess gave;
a heart of seeds to sow
again - an offering of grace.
In bead-black symmetry
they sit, awaiting sure
release, as flesh is broken,
pulled apart, they fall -
their futures given.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment