Hidden

I am but a weed

rooted in solemn shade

From a carefree seed

slid down a dewed grass blade
Shall I sway to pose

against the heinous rose

If only to stand a chance

from the pruning gardener’s glance

 
Having always viewed the weed as an underdog I will be her champion tonight. 

6 thoughts on “Hidden”

      1. Superficial beauty of the rose! Amazing! Sonnet writers just turned in their graves. šŸ˜€

        Like

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