The Sorrow of the Sheep’s Sorrel

” The ignorance in my garden”

Plucked from the garden, tagged as unwanted,

spewn on the ground and caused to be daunted.

“What did it do wrong?”, growing if designated a crime,

as a wolf amidst a herd of sheep, anything but sublime.

Out of place, out of shape, out of its clear space,

so the weed weeps for its regard as a disgrace.

The gardener, however unaware of his plight,

expels the Sheep’s Sorrel from his clear sight.

“What a delight!”, a garden filled with roses and kind,

but flawed of a plant which is safe for his heart’s bind.

The Sorrel would find his home elsewhere,

buckled up in a bottle of health and welfare.

 

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2 thoughts on “The Sorrow of the Sheep’s Sorrel

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