There She stood!!!

Years rub on the back of months
Days rub on the hands of hours
In that sad time’s face
In the space of his death

There she stared
with her eyes gazing blest
on the face of the cloud
With the weaken hands
In the depth of the sore

There she passed
her memories there
On the mid-hour despair
With the death distressed
On the palms of the tree
In the depth of the blow

There she sheds
The little silent tears
Groping in sorrows and fears
At the emptiness of her years
For every moments there
In the depth of the pierce

There she dropped
With her spittle mixed
With the mourning clay
At the look of his fall
In the depth of her arms

There she stood
By the side of the tree
That grabs the life of her child
In the terror of her skin
In the depth of her soft soul

Photo: http://www.deeprootsathome.com

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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