Wild Rose Bush Poem by james watkin

Wild Rose Bush



Should we be surprised then?
Clumps of wild rose bush
At dead, dusty crossroads;
Nowhere's midst a-hush;
Shaped to perfection by
Whose hand, invisible
Since tis their Maker's, is
More than capable!

Sunday, April 12, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: country,flower,god
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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