Of Lore

Wild flowers croon and bow swivel
And pivot against blowing gales of lore.
They rumble across the weaving grass,
Simultaneously rolling and modulating
Their crude estate.
Their crude and raw state disemboweled
With the finest strife discern
Mountains of reverence, acclaimed
Wildly in hushed whispers, susurrated
Within the grounds of lore.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem