Rose & Thorn Poetry

Outcomes (A poem about point of view) He made a guess and it turned out fine, How smart he is. He made a guess and it turned out wrong, What a fool is he, He should have know better. The same things done, The same choices made, But depending on the outcome, People’s views change. Words were spoken, Words were written. If there is silence, Then “Perhaps I should have said nothing.” But if there is confirmation, Then “I am so glad I said something.” The same words spoken The same words arranged But depending on the outcome People’s views change He loves her and she loves him, How sweet they say. He loves her and she does not. Is he a creeper and she is prey? Or is she foolish and he a jackpot? Do we base choices on outcomes, On happy endings? On others’ thoughts? You loved with all you had And you were accepted. You loved with all you had And you were rejected. If you do the right thing and people hate you, If you do the wrong thing and people l...

I cannot find the beautiful picture that inspired me to write this poem, but hopefully you can see it in your mind 😉 Here's something that I drew as consolation Cherry Blossoms on Water Mirroring glass, a liquid road Reflecting the frothy trees. Every shade of pink explodes From the bending branches above. Delicate blossoms release their hold Below they shatter, the petals scatter Pink confetti on the water bestowed. *I finally found the picture :) You can find the original here https://www.flickr.com/photos/aflanio/4512851232/lightbox/  This photo was taken by Aflânio Tomikawa. Isn't it beautiful?

Until Spring Comes The world is cold and listless grey, Subdued in its winter coat arrayed. Bright colors from seasons past, Reds, blues, purples, pinks, All lost, no longer on display. The thief that bereaves the land-- Where delicate blooms once did unfold And evenings ended lined with gold-- Will at last stay its hand. Wind whisks through deserted trees, Their brittle branches void of leaves. Wistful dreams of warmer days, Sleeping green vanquished by grey, The land waits, Until spring comes again.