06-09-2015, 02:52 AM
edit 1 (Mercedes, June) Thank you!
Loathing Lichen
Not overflowing
like the eternal Tao,
our youth prolapses
into faint purple deltas,
decorating temples
like leaf veins in autumn.
Budding zeal is dead-headed
as arbors grow congested.
Roots are tapped of vigor,
while the foliage is neglected.
Broken shoots commence weeping,
as they fail to stem the leaking
of nitrogenous waste.
There's no comfort
in plump rose hips,
smooth silver beech limbs,
the apple blossom’s bosom
or aromatic herbal patches.
We endure the declining helix
from the crown of weeping willows
to the damp mossy hollows
where invertebrata wallow.
-----------------------------------------------------
Loathing Lichen
Not ever-flowing
like the eternal Tao,
our vigor prolapses
into faint purple deltas,
decorating temples
like leaf veins in autumn.
Budding zeal is dead-headed
as arbors grow congested.
Roots are tapped of vigor,
while the vegetation's neglected.
Broken stems commence weeping,
as they dribble after leaking
nitrogenous waste.
There's no comfort
in plump rose hips,
smooth silver beech limbs,
the apple blossom’s bosom
or aromatic herbal patches.
We endure the declining helix
from the crown of weeping willows
to the damp mossy hollows
where invertebrata wallow.
Loathing Lichen
Not overflowing
like the eternal Tao,
our youth prolapses
into faint purple deltas,
decorating temples
like leaf veins in autumn.
Budding zeal is dead-headed
as arbors grow congested.
Roots are tapped of vigor,
while the foliage is neglected.
Broken shoots commence weeping,
as they fail to stem the leaking
of nitrogenous waste.
There's no comfort
in plump rose hips,
smooth silver beech limbs,
the apple blossom’s bosom
or aromatic herbal patches.
We endure the declining helix
from the crown of weeping willows
to the damp mossy hollows
where invertebrata wallow.
-----------------------------------------------------
Loathing Lichen
Not ever-flowing
like the eternal Tao,
our vigor prolapses
into faint purple deltas,
decorating temples
like leaf veins in autumn.
Budding zeal is dead-headed
as arbors grow congested.
Roots are tapped of vigor,
while the vegetation's neglected.
Broken stems commence weeping,
as they dribble after leaking
nitrogenous waste.
There's no comfort
in plump rose hips,
smooth silver beech limbs,
the apple blossom’s bosom
or aromatic herbal patches.
We endure the declining helix
from the crown of weeping willows
to the damp mossy hollows
where invertebrata wallow.
My new watercolor: 'Nightmare After Christmas'/Chris

