Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Verdure of Spring

"...that love, only love could survive..."

Verdure of Spring

Dead leaves from autumn;
passim about the meadows.
Behind I'm filled with gratitude;
Forward, I am filled with vision.
Upwards, I'm filled with strength;
Within, I'm now filled with peace.

As the trees accept all seasons;
accept your suffering with grace.
Sunny days will help you bloom;
stormy days keep you resilient.
In our final act and last breath;
we were ignorance personified.

Humanity intoxicated with an idea;
that love, only love could survive;
heal our starved, cherished hearts;
mend a self-righteous brokenness;
Bind our risqué lustful domination;
left bleeding on thorns in rose petals.






Article © Ken Allan Dronsfield. All rights reserved.
Published in the January 11, 2021 issue .
Image(s) © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
More by Ken Allan Dronsfield → More poetry → Full issue →
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