The Womb I Have.
(A florette)
The womb I have I wear outside
Royal jewels I can not hide
In the process doing thier part
But I would not be smart to say I'm full of pride
The womb I have inside my mind
Is fertile soil to be mined
Ideas the seed heart gestated
With time incubated full grown fruit to
find
The womb I have is in my house
Where I can hide a quiet mouse
Weary bones lie to rise reborn
Time given without scorn allowed by my sweet spouse
The womb I have does not exist
Why would I think it could be wished
I had the right to force a law
In logic there's the flaw and the point has been missed
Nice try, Mark!
ReplyDeleteI like how you chose to utilize the prompt. You commented on Morgan's post that you were thrown for a loop but I think you did quite well. :)
ReplyDeleteI'm amazed at the variety of responses to the prompt. Your poem begins with strong images and a sense of appreciation for a 'womb' as a metaphor for reflection, a gift for all writers.
ReplyDeletehttps://bethandwriting.blogspot.com/
Amazing response!
ReplyDelete