some days are dead
like the old daffodil
blooms yesterday lighting
up the earth today
laying brown and forlorn
i would like to escape the
dark soil making of this dying
would love to make love all
day all night to chase away
thoughts of endings right
after the bloom has fallen
would love to find one place
where i could hang my clothes
and find that i live here in my
own place not someone else’s
but my bloom is past i lie here
making good earth trying to
remember there will again be
a time to bloom
Poet Jude's Poetry 
Reblogged this on Gooda-TREK.
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I had some french ladies trying to traslate your poems … They asked me to pass a message to you ” Salute poete Jude nos aime votre poeme ici en France c’est enchantee”
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How wonderful. I studied French in college and so love the sound of that romance language. Je suis enchante, or something like that. You are carrying my poetry so far. Thank-you. What wonderful people you are meeting. Love. Jude
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Here in England does not stop raining so I did read this poem again and again…lovely!
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