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Fields of Gold

written by: Steve Pearson



Little seems the flowers grow
While we behold their grace
Pure and gold the seeds we sew,
Their nascence we embrace.

Beauty in their innocence
Virtue in their unstained self
We, absorbed with reverence
In delight, and pride of our wealth

Suddenly the flowers bloom
Before our wondered eyes
Wherewith the gift, which we assume,
To watch the flowers rise.

Steve Pearson

Steve Pearson

JUNE 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
That's me at the front of the photo. I'm an atheist, socialist, humanist, poet and soon to be novelist. From here to there and a lot of shit in the middle. That's life.
Steve Pearson

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