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4d
POEM PLANTING

Words flow
in different coloured thoughts

from your tiny hand

page after page
submits to your mind

crayoned into being.

Then we tear them up
into separate entities

plant them in the rich black soil

between row after row
of crocus.

Planting words
you squeal with delight.

I tell you they will grow
into poems

by the morning
if you love them enough.

As you sleep
dreaming that it can be – such

I kidnap your words

shape them
so that when you awaken

a tiny crop of haiku

awaits
your happily believing eyes.

We read them
over soldiers and perfectly boiled eggs.
Donall Dempsey
Written by
Donall Dempsey  Guildford
(Guildford)   
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