A lone tree in the moors
Dancing in tandem with the storm
A jagged streak of lightening finds it's mark
The bogs sighed
What they could not kill
Was split in two
Rain like grief swept the stoic countenance
Lamenting the loss of the lonely sentinel.
In this maelstrom
I hope love has taken roots
And one day stand tall in this desolate moor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Reena. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.