Aurora Australis

the meek

shall inherit

the

earth

reminding me

of

our

bed

so bold

the flush

of

your 

cheek

here

a garden grows

singing songs about Cripple Creek

hearts

hands

and

fingers

seek

though

all these ceaseless snows

here

a garden grows

holding on to the things we

know

listening while the rooster 

crows

all the while

here

a 

garden 

grows

Author's Note

Oof. This one's tough. The great love... didn't quite last, but the feelings, well, you know how those go. I never showed her this one, it was too personal. But ah, the anonymous internet, well...

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Not everything in the garden grows, but when it’s at its best, how heavenly that can be. The ceaseless snows tell another story here John. A lovely, descriptive write. The emotions come across. Have a great day my friend.

Chris

[John Sullivan]

Chris Shaw!

Wise... wise words. We can only cultivate and hope to see what grows. And so we do.

Though Hell may be real, we must be thankful for the little slices of Heaven along the way...

[Thomas W Case]

Powerful work. Sharp and vivid.

[John Sullivan]

Thank you Tom, for reading and visiting today.