Angry Winds

Beneath the withering bloom of hope

Seeds of discord lie festering

Infants swaddled in sorrow’s husk

Chafed souls cast to bitter wind

Dupe of fate’s cruel favor

Bereft of hopeful sustenance

Left to bear their fading torch


On distant leeward hillside

Sunlight bathes the fields

Blustering orange blooms

Rife with the promise

Splendorous in coats of green

Deeply rooted in fertile earth

Ardent in thirst for tomorrow


Heedless of the nettled seeds

Blown by trumpet of angry wind

Bound straight in hope’s direction





About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
This entry was posted in General, Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s