The last Hope

Taciturn poplars close ranks.
They do not fear November.

I try to fill in the blanks.
Will the dawn remember?

But the sky has cried enough,
flowers have fallen into a deep sleep.

Winter Soldiers know their stuff.
The last Hope is a secret to keep.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Peupliers au petit matin © 2017 – F.G.M.

The King

Once You were a seed
now You are a King.

You reign over all seasons
You see beyond all horizons.

You make the deaf hear
You give sight to the blind,

but those who refuse to be
little leaves falling softly down

will never see Your crown
will never reach Your realm.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

l’Arbre d’Or © 2017 – F.G.M.