pansies

Lost Pen

“There you are,” having fallen into helplessness,

confusions,

lost in the pile of life’s debri.

I pick you up, dust you off,

dear old friend,

but don’t leave again…

I smile down at my long lost pen.

copyrighted: CMM August 2010

Within the winter’s storm, far beyond degrees,

delicate flower has weathered the rigid winter’s breeze.

If fallen snow does come in winter’s frozen ground,

I look outside my window noticing the pansy still around.

Don’t misunderstand the refinement of color, softness and touch

all too many thrust past grace, forgetting strength in much…