Poetry of Weeds

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Weeds, to some, are like memories long past,
Needing to be plucked of the shadows they cast,
but I see their beauty deep within, for God placed them there.
That's where I leave them and tend to their care.
Their roots, growing deep, hold fast and true,
as my faith, my love, and hope must do
to garner my strength for another day
to weather life's storms that come my way.
Where I see a flower and you see a Weed,
it's presence and purpose fulfills my need
to do what I can to manage the earth
in my small garden of questionable worth,
As I nurture my Weeds and watch them grow,
there's something I've often wanted to know
could the loveliest rose, cursed with it's thorn,
be simply a Weed, that is not ridiculed or scorned
but loved and cherished by all who see
it's inner beauty.
- Chaoticvamp

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Bravo! This is a brilliant poem, speaking the truth about so many aspects of life. The phrase, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder" has never rung so true as it does when illustrated by your poem. Thanks for sharing!

[melbtrans]

I like that poem, it is softening and true, a question sometimes we need to ask in our selves pertaining to certain parts of life.

Life is a river, sometimes far and wide, sometimes narrow and short,
But no matter the direction of the current, it is the person that gazes upon
the waters reflections, that make the decisions for which they travel.