Seasons

You plant your golden seed on my earthy skin

Hoping

                           Waiting 

For time

To work it’s magic and whisper love’s plant into existence

But this dark skin of mine is a barren land

Pillaged and torched by a lover’s scorn

Still waiting for spring’s breeze to caress it into a new life

Forgive

As love’s seed was planted in the wrong season.

                                        Isaac Ouro-Gnao 

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