Bud prose poem

Forget nothing and dream of everything opening like a flower bud
Turning memories into fantasy and reality but an if and why and could
Smell the flowers scent and it reminds you of a woman of the wood
It’s colour isn’t important but you see it’s glory in nature like a flame of good
Wrestle with it’s power then submit because you know inside you should
Aphrodite is your mother and your lover but so misunderstood
When a boy becomes a man he is the hunter but hunted also for his blood
Do not mistake a feeling for a need or you shall be slain by the sisterhood
A blind man knows all of the stars exist but to see them he only has to feel the mud
To need someone you have to put your heart in their hands and know till you both die
that a new flower has come from the soil and shown a single bud

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Peter Kiggin

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I am a poet through and through and anyone that tells you different you must deny it and slap them across the face very roughly indeed. I love the normal things in life and turning them into mysterious meaningful emotionally attached fascinating object or subjects.
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