My illness was love

I peeled bits of straws & I got switches too
From the grey peeling willow as idlers do
& I switched at the flies as I sat all alone
Till my flesh blood & marrow was turned to dry bone
My illness was love though I knew not the smart
But the beauty of love was the blood of my heart
Crowded places I shunned them as noises too rude
& fled to the silence of sweet solitude
Where the flower in green darkness buds blossoms & fades
Unseen of all shepherds & flower loving maids
The hermit bees find them but once & away
There I'll bury alive & in silence decay

#poetry #environment 

#honesty

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