Blossomy Poem by james watkin
Blossomy
The softness is what spellbinds us.
Outfacing, overall
A day-view and a dream-vision!
Earthly and idealic.
Thickly misted; for what's pink hung;
Sky-boughed; sky-romantic!
That, just now, shadowing across
Unforeseen, in a breeze?
Our life's short-lived fragility!
None over this would drool!
Who's look, barely has time spoiling!
Fuji's eternal cool.
Saturday, May 28, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: flower
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8/30/2025 9:59:24 PM # 1.0.0
