I have nothing to write home about. Life has meandered into its oft chanced upon cheerless, uneventful bend.
So here’s some amateur poetry, some verses from yours truly…
“Beautiful is the rose atop many a thorn;
Mad indeed art thou to ignore it for mourn.
Effervescent is life despite moments of gloom;
Shalt thou wilt or shalt thou bloom?”
There’s a poet hidden amongst all of us. Unaware, yet waiting for the right moment. Hope you enjoyed this attempted amateur poetry.