Pollard Willows - 2 Poems
Spilling Ink in Nature's Garden
Spilling Ink in nature's garden,
turning orange to dark grey.
Storm will blow my hair in chaos,
soppy feet in muddy clay.
Pollard willows are bending heads,
wind is cleaning up the path,
I'll retreat to such a force,
I think I'll have a nice, hot bath.
When Times Get Tough
you need a shoulder
to lean on,
when times get rough.
© 2017 Titia Geertman