Repeats

Inspired by all the repeated rubbish on TV these days – A re-cap of a previous post:  🙂

 

The words of this poem formed inside my brane last night as i awoke at midnight from sleep. I thought you may enjoy it?

With apologies to Robbie Burns…

My luve is like a red, red rose
That in a central courtyard grows.
Surrounded by four walls of stone,
The hands that built those walls, my own.
Protected from the bitter wind
Of other luve’s of those who’ve sinned.
Yet still more deadly is the sin
Formed from my fear that blows within.

Stretching out up to the azure skies
To reach for freedom that up there lies.
My luve, that be planted within the ground,
Desires not the walls within which it’s found.
But instead doth search for the wide-open space
That’s Illumined by the Light of Grace.
And lest it may, by over-reaching, die
Perhaps with a roof i’ll block the sky.

As i kept my luve thus safe inside,
With all my fearful care – it died.

love, Nov 2008