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Barren Fields








Oh barren fields before me
How I long to till your lines
Plant the seeds of imagination
Give birth to saplings of heart

Let me reap from you verses
A simple bounty of meter and rhyme
Watering you with a pen stroke
Tapping wells of my mind

It seems more famine than feast
In the barren fields these days
With the growth of self doubt
Such a wicked little weed

Perhaps something lies here~in
Kept hidden beneath the overgrowth
A masterpiece undiscovered?
As I search lengths of lines, I hope

~THE FLOWING PEN~
© 8-2-08



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Barren Fields