The cragged rock

My first ever attempt at poetry

garden,

wet with dew

reflecting pale morning sun 

a shining jewel 

where weeds had swayed.

 my hands, fingers, nails

had nursed this cragged rock

and in its place

forged beauty

grace.

© Paul O' Neill 2012

Author's Note

Please be honest-I can take it!

Reviews

[lisat]

+ the picture is nice too

[Pól]

its my garden

[lisat]

Wow- for a first work, amazing.

[Renée]

from start to finish.. this paints a lovely vision of a day spent in blissful solitude...

[Pól]

thank u so much, Renée. This was my first ever poem, probably shows- lol.

[Renée]

my pleasure ..I think the first poems are the loveliest...they are written from the heart with eyes clear of expectations ..

[Pól]

thats a really nice way to put it :)

[Alexandria Reece]

A wonderful situational piece with more to think on than the surface. I like the way the words feel when I read it aloud and the thought is very streamline/collected, a very nice poem.

'my hands, fingers, nails
had nursed this cragged rock' -- that's my favourite bit.

[Pól]

mine too

[Pól]

The inspiration for this was "The Field", a brilliant film I would recommend + my own garden, a liittle bit of which is in the pic

[Alexandria Reece]

Goodness, your garden is lovely! I'll have to look that movie up :)

[Pól]

its depressing but brilliant!

[Alexandria Reece]

The best.