Clutching a single red rose seed in the palm of his hand,
The suitor searches for a fertile hostess.
Hoping to harvest the fruits of his acquired knowledge of love
In a world where blossoms often go unnoticed.
Navigated by Cupid’s compass…
He maneuvers his vessel through the tears of the broken hearted.
Only to find himself right back where…
His journey to the Promised Land started.
Knowing that time and death is never late,
He tries to stop his heart from getting colder...
By sipping un-sweetened tea brewed by the dried leaves
Of the Leprechauns’ four-leaf clovers.
He broke the reservoir of his soul,
Weeping for a woman he never knew.
Sleepless nights spend fantasizing about making love to her
To the fertility of Ballad of Nature’s hues.
The more he daydreamed about finally meeting his betrothed,
The more his appetite for a monogamous relationship grew.
So, he faithfully and patiently waited on line in the “Wilderness.”
For his plate of angel food…Manna.
See all poetry for Dwayne Morrison #07-A-4112