Skip to main content

Flower Basket


Flower Basket 

by Robert Neest


It was an early evening at the pond, 

That had the water surface calm and smooth 

Reflecting next to clouds and parts of sky 

The vase-shaped trees that were surrounding it. 


Next to the alley getting to its side 

There was an yellow basket left apart 

With narrow base and wider to the top 

And full of flowers that had different heights. 


Three yellow roses were next to the top 

Above few pink and reddish dahlias 

That stood apart from daisies that were short 

And filled with white and yellow all around. 


Above there was a lower branch of tree 

That was completely covered with green leaves 

And white and rounded flowers spread along 

Were making it look like a solemn arch. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting

Waiting  by Robert Neest A tall and wooden window’s open wide  And lets the early summer sunshine slip  Inside the dimly lit and narrow room  And draw few feeble shadows on the walls.  Beside the window stands a girl and looks  Towards a very distant place, away  From where she stays with shoulders brought in front  While arms are tightly held around her waist.  She wears a lively coloured graceful dress  With stylish shoes that are her favourite pair  And light shines on her nicely done hair  To make her look so beautiful and young.  With trembling hands she reads again the message,  As she has done since she received the news,  When several tears are falling from her eyes  And then are slowly rolling down her face. 

A Dream

A Dream by Robert Neest The son of young and working man and wife A two-year-old boy lived in a small flat, Inside a basement of a building was What they could pay from their modest wage. The parents left the place that they were born And went away from their home and friends, Were forced by lack of chances to build up A decent life for their family. Arrived in a new country they were firm In their will to strive for a new life And get for their son what they had not, To grow with hope of better days ahead. O ne night , a storm was hitting their town And massive floods were reaching their street, A brutal burst inside the place they were And died the m o ther, father and the son.

Why

Why by Robert Neest There are some people living among us, Most of the time they’re rich with higher ranks And looking down on everybody as They think themselves superior to all. When seeing that they have all they would need And even more while others strive to live Is giving them a pleasure they enjoy And makes them feel accomplished their li ves . So many times they’ re doing harm around, To see folks suffer being their goal And live the main desire they possess To be the bigger, better, s tronger ones. The sweet and mighty moment’s passi ng fast, Th en feel an emptiness that grows inside While letting them without the knowledge why It is themselves the ones that suffer most.