Lay down in a meadow of thistles


I paced those same lanes, believing
they would make me feel as though
I belonged to them, but all they did
was lead my away, like they always
used to do.

Even back then, they were overgrown
with weeds, hiding me and
burning me at the same time,
but, oh how I wanted to lay down
in that beautiful meadow
of purple thistles.

I didn’t even feel the pain,
I just wanted the green of the ground
to reach my heart.

There was always that one path
that I didn’t dare take,
thinking back; perhaps
it was for the better.

I bloomed anyway, didn’t I?
Like a snow flower, I pierced
right up through that ice,
glowing untainted white,
even in all that sunless poverty.


10 thoughts on “Lay down in a meadow of thistles

  1. The imagery you are able to convey with words is powerful. When I read your stories, and poems I feel like I’m there, observing, listening, and caught up in the emotion of the scene you portray. You have a special gift Trini. Thanks for sharing it and your heart with us.

    • Oh, wow! ❀ Now I feel so so moved! You have really inspired and motivated me with your beautiful feedback! That just means everything to me ❀ I feel like writing more now, knowing someone is there to appreciate it ❀ Thank you! From the bottom of my heart ❀ You just made my day magical! πŸ™‚

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