Roses & Violets
written by: Kenneth Vincent Walker
Roses aren’t all red
It seems and violets
Aren’t even blue, they
Are violet, amid our
Most violent of dreams.
Poetic verse is not all
Flowery words content
On springing from life’s
Steaming manure heap.
For what is read, mistook,
Misunderstood dances on
Our heads as a crown of
Thorns; intellectual food.
We digest and Internalize
The beauty inside begins
To materialize, to flourish,
As we finally comprehend
And henceforth; come alive
To a lush garden of surprises.
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