Date: December 18, 2022
he was never the patriarch
and never had lilac
he walks through the fields of lavender
there flashes back memories of her
she loves to watch royalties
her eyes' beautiful, a violet iris
she met him when she's a kid
with a little glimpse of orchids
her attention's caught amid thistles
his attention drawn to her by whistles
along the jacaranda tree
whispered 'what a memory'
YOU ARE READING
Hidden Masterpieces of a Screaming Mind
PoetryTo hide masterpieces is to feel something in silence. Posted: April 2020 disclaimer: book cover isn't mine, credits to the rightful owner.
