Where the Pink Flowers Grow

by Ken Allan Dronsfield

for Karen Lee

Please take me home,
where the pink flowers grow.
Brush my cheek
and inspire mortal desires.

Cast the dark away,
allow the light to glow,
meld my spirit back
to life’s internal fire.

Here I now lie,
deep in this hallowed ground,
listening for the sounds
of the shovels’ infernal digging.

The soul awaits its journey,
but the sun is warm and forgiving.
Yes, please carry me home,
where the pink flowers grow.


Copyright © 2016 by Ken Allan Dronsfield

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