Bouquet 7

saturn's rings
are little things,

torn apart 
by too much 
gravity perhaps.

no levity would
help, i fear.

sometimes 
it is like 
that here.


love and laughter 
sometimes coincide.

and when they do, 
magic may happen.


stuff like love 
and floral bouquets
can be storied,

stories unto
themselves.

we dare not ask;
we do not really
want to know.


saturn's rings
are little things,

torn apart 
by too much 
gravity perhaps.






8 thoughts on “Bouquet 7

  1. Gosh this poem evokes such a bouquet of feelings and memories for me, Murray! when I was eight or nine (last millennium, in the swinging sixties) I decided to start a fund so I could go to Uranus, although I didn’t know that – like Saturn – it has rings to navigate past.

    My mum donated two sixpences (old currency in UK) and I matched that with two pennies.

    Later she accused me (amusedly of course) of absconding with the money. To this day I don’t know where it went … I only reached Uranus through literature and day-dreaming.

    Like

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