Crisp, cold, entombed beneath the ground,
wondering could life come again,
I ponder.
Yet, within lies hope.
Although not seen occurring;
I question.
Invisible to the eyes,
my heart remains steadfast,
hoping.
Faith rewarded,
as bulbs burst from their tombs,
rebirth.
Published by Artisttia Yarns
Described by her publisher as "She is a...nurse and counselor... Much of her work has focused on abused women...(She)wrote Mimi's Tale: A Story of Transformation."After 2 strokes,she is relearning to read an... View profile
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4 Comments
Post a CommentBeautiful poem. Can wait to read others you make.
Very nice, very wise, very wonderful, very beautiful....very Good poem....
Great poem !
Great poem !