Birth and Renewal
The womb that brought her forth gave birth to my attachment to her, a cold night may give birth to a warm day, but brighter and more rarely seen is a woman of virtue relieved of unclean ways.
In my path many flowers I have picked, inhaled of their various scents and have since considered insufficient, worthless is the soil of unfertile ground, but the raised land is beloved by me accentuating the sun's rays as it wanes in its round.
Many were the days when comfort eluded those without crop, but one cannot cultivate when the fertile embrace of love has escaped.
poem by Dijon Noble
Added by Poetry Lover
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