Treasure Island

Poetheart (back)

(05/23/1960 / Rio de Janeiro)

Fertile Ground


Once a farmer
always a good sower
dropping of branches of the pines trees
there, was the seed!

how tiny and succulent was the fruit
from that tree
one ~ among ~
others, served between a cup of hot tea

that remain as an empty capsule
petrified inside the walls of the Great home Symbol

the fruits falling down
wasted on the ground
resisting at the wind and the well too
~ waiting ~
in a lent memory of nature

despair also exists
to lay claim her hands
even she, never asking for help
its the nature of brothers

and had a mother and father and some other people
crying there!
The seed getting rid

mirror of water
just a shallow intention
on that fertile ground!

Submitted: Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Fertile Ground by Poetheart (back) )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 8 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou

New Poems

  1. The Idea, Mark Strand
  2. The Garden, Mark Strand
  3. The End, Mark Strand
  4. Orpheus Alone, Mark Strand
  5. Loss of species., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
  6. The Knurd, Alexander Onoja
  7. My Life, Mark Strand
  8. In Celebration, Mark Strand
  9. Coming to This, Mark Strand
  10. "The Dreadful Has Already Happened&.., Mark Strand

Poem of the Day

poet Helen Hunt Jackson

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]