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Thorny fingers of the Rose
Clutch at tilted rotting timbers.
Wilted flowers perching pose
For attention there they linger.

Yet no jaunting love admires 
Nor any bird is heard to sing -
The full maturity of Autumn 
Has effaced all hues of Spring.

Once vivaciously abloom, alas,
Now melancholy stays.
Yearning eyes will wander, lost
In the Garden of Dismay. 
 

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About the author:

kieran dacey boylan

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Sydney based poet exploring themes of life, death & existence via lyric poetry. A horticulturalist by trade, I collect & study plants, insects, geology, shells, orchids; really anything that grows or moves. A small collection of my work may be currently found at hellopoetry.

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