By Charles Robert Lindholm
The seeds of love he planted
grew deeply in my heart
He wrapped his love
around my world
in a romantic
work of art
I’ve lived through all
of Love’s seasons.
And at last
I’ve learned
the reasons
why it is
love withers and dies
why it brings heartache
and tears to your eyes
it’s hard to concede
his Love like a weed
now needs rooting
out of my heart
Copyright © 2017 Charles Robert Lindholm 4-23-2017 3:00 p.m.
Inspired by – Shrewassetfree – How I Lost My Chains
Please check out the other works on this blog!
✅
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Ahh, My Dear!! I cannot tell You how much I Love You for going through all of my older poems and spending time with my words!! I am honored and blessed to have such an avid follower as You! I am so grateful for you spending your precious time with my words! An Awesome and Beautiful Gift, Sweet K!!
Chuck
xoxo
😘💕💕🌹🌹
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Love like a weed. It withers and dies. Beautiful.
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Yes, sometimes, but sometimes a weed tries to copycat love until it’s true nature is exposed!!
xoxo
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Yes. I agree 👍
xoxo
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Your words speak to me, heartbreak turned to verse gets me every time. You do it so well. It’s all I know to do with mine. Beautiful…JM
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So honored and happy that this reached out to you JM!! I think you need to put things down with ink on paper so your feelings and experiences are captured, saved and shared with the world! Write your heartaches!
xoxo
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Bingo!
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Thanks so much!! Good to see you!
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Charles, those last three lines hit you right between the eyes. Nice poetry 🙂
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Yes, as always you found the very best part and the whole summation of the piece! Thank you so much for the very kind words! You know I’m always aiming to “Hit You”! LOL! But in a kind and gentle way! Ha!
I really loved the seed of inspiration from “How I Lost My Chains”.
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Keep aiming Charles, always happy to take the hit 🙂
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Ha! Are you mocking my marksman skills?? Not having guns I probably couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn with a shotgun. But I will keep aiming my writing toward you! LOL!
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I am honoured and privileged to be a target Charles. I think with all poetry we fire into the unknown in the hope that someone may be wounded (in the nicest possible sense).
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Oh, there you go again! “in the nicest possible sense”. Cracked me up. I do love to hear from you My Friend! Yes, sometimes I think about blowing the dandelion seeds into the air when I hit “Publish”. As you say, you never know where they may land or who they may touch.
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🙂
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