Promises made,
hopes acquired.
New seeds sown,
a bed of flowers prepared.
A winter passes,
a summer dissolves,
an autumn ceases
to enchant anymore.
A day begins
and ends in vain;
joy gleams at a distance
and sorrow reigns.
A patient wait rusts
in grey; to dust
I fade
Hope still does shy away.
Â
--
© All rights reserved, 2012 by Hurree Oum Baboo and Deadwoodedition.com












Comments: 21
Well, since I grew up on farms, that is what used to happen to us. Even if the crop is disappointing, our hopes never fade. "Next season will be better."
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