Monday, June 30, 2014


...and they coax her to 'come! Come to this mall and that mall and see what money can buy! Run to the coffers of jingle; fill your fingers with its lie... but she knows a mall of green field and blue sky where wealth is a wonder money cannot buy...

She is wild rose
In a garden
Muted things
Pen must descry
Of melody
Coin cannot buy

She is bond-servant
Of quill
Not by force
But her free will
Wild-rose wandering
The wind
In the willow

She is loyal
To the trust
Of a poet’s
Wild-rose ever
She will be
Of poetry

© Janet Martin

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!