Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2017
This round, ripe fruit,
That I now hold,
Once fell from that tree,
Sitting in a grove.
it's tangy taste lasts on my tongue,
This free once bloomed with fervor,
It's branches sprawling out,
Greeting the morning sun.
AnnaMarie Jenema
Written by
AnnaMarie Jenema  F/USA
(F/USA)   
213
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems