I
Steady hands till soil
And caress the gentle seed
Within the garden
II
Soft rain nourishes
The sapling which will become
A mighty oak tree
III
Consuming all in
Its path, fire devours until
Only ash remains.
IV
Summer winds give wings
To quiet leaves and flowers
Which dance in the air
About the Creator
Ash Taylor
Lover of fantasy and all things whimsical. Currently studying Writing and Publishing at UNE in Armidale, Australia. Living on Anaiwan land.
he/him
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Bonfires and Herbs
There was a betrayer in our midst. We had no way of knowing, for they kept their evil deeds cloaked in deception. Our little village of Hampshire was taken entirely by surprise when they committed their traitorous acts. We had no thoughts to predict that at the time of our celebrating the Sun's ascension to the highest point in the Northern Sky, they would strike with a most diabolical blow. A blow that has undoubtedly left a mark burned deep into the pure white light of our hearts.
By The Invisible Writer4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Another excellent piece!