They Call her Peace #poetry #photography

poetry penned in moon dust

In my hand I held her

a fragrance that grows faint

she dipped into the sunshine

we insulted her with paint

*

In my hand I held her

not wanting to let her go

breezy calm like spring time

I wish they’d let her grow

*

In my hand I held her

though she damaged by the storm

the reds of hate assailed her

hopes and dreams were dashed and torn

*

In my hand I held her

she seems so out of reach

man  bent on world dominion

her name – they call her Peace

Kim’s prompt for Poet’s United / Verse First is Close to the Source. When I saw the little blossom on my rose bush (this am), I felt the need to write this for her. The bugs and deer rarely leave a bloom. The symbolism is strong for this little rose.

poets united

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