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Flowers of the field
Flowers of the field
Feel no sorrow
They bloom in hope of tomorrow
In days of the coming frost
They know all hope will be lost
The sinner sleeps in the doorway
No sun will reach the soul today
In the cold wind we just walk on by
Caring not before their time they die
Flowers of the fields
Radiate! Should not they rejoice
In their silence, do they have a choice
Do they cry when the wind touches their face
Or look to the clouds, their hope embrace
In the womb, a living soul begins
But does anyone believe the edge of a blade is a sin
In the warmth of the sun, we just walk on by
Caring not before their time they die
Flowers of the fields
They stand speechless as a stone
Yet without eyes, they are never alone
To winter’s promise, they fear no strife
Would they ever seek death in life
Men without God, there’s no talk of heaven or hell
Even both they know is real
In the moment of their cry, why do we just walk on by
Caring not before their time they die
Roy L. Nave
2019
Sometimes I let things go "before their time." Its like an artist painting on canvas, sometimes a painting is never done. How you arrange words do matter. It is my desire each one reading my poems that you consider your own thoughts. Leaving a living path of your life for your generations to come, I feel is very important. From within, what would you like to say?
Flowers of the field
Flowers of the field
Feel no sorrow
They bloom in hope of tomorrow
In days of the coming frost
They know all hope will be lost
The sinner sleeps in the doorway
No sun will reach the soul today
In the cold wind we just walk on by
Caring not before their time they die
Flowers of the field
Radiate! Should not they rejoice
In their silence, do they have a choice
Do they cry when the wind touches their face
Or look to the clouds, their hope embrace
In the womb, a living soul begins
But does anyone believe the edge of a blade is a sin
In the warmth of the sun, we just walk on by
Caring not before their time they die
Flowers of the field
They stand speechless as a stone
Yet without eyes, they are never alone
To winter’s promise, they fear no strife
Would they ever seek death in life
Men without God, there’s no talk of heaven or hell
Even both they know is real
In the moment of their cry, we just walk on by
Caring not before their time they die
Roy L. Nave
2019