Life In the Withering Hours

How is it then we withered
in the fields of despair
beside the willow tree
with its stinging bees
in a time that is free
when in
the solemnity
of these withering, withering hours
in fields of despair
when we   
thrived beneath these
swaying busy bee trees
buzzing and free?
We stood there
side-to-side
in withering fields grinning
ear to ear
and blessed and bonded with the poison in
the tall grass.
Bless me 
for the Lord has been good to us,
in these withering fields
in the scorching breeze
in the long willow trees
frigid and free
we in these fields of despair
we thriving beneath the buzzing bees
we when
we applauded and turned and turned
when we withered and turned, withered and turned
in the tall grass of stinging bees
when we blessed and bonded with the despairing breeze
in dark, dark willow trees
when the Lord blessed me.
Ben Plunkett
Latest posts by Ben Plunkett (see all)

Ben Plunkett

Greetings from the booming metropolis that is Pleasant View, Tennessee. I am a man of constant spiritual highs and spiritual lows. I pray that I serve God at my highest even when I am lowest.

2 thoughts on “Life In the Withering Hours

  • March 6, 2020 at 5:36 pm
    Permalink

    You definitely have a feel for poetry, Ben! Good job!

    Reply
  • March 9, 2020 at 1:20 pm
    Permalink

    This is beautiful, Ben. So good to have you back writing poetry!

    Reply

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