By Scott Bailey © 2017
Government Guide to Hospitality
We welcome you with open arms
If you can afford it
If not, go to hell

Destination Dreams
Government Guide to Hospitality
We welcome you with open arms
If you can afford it
If not, go to hell
Government Guide to Hospitality
We welcome you with open arms
If you can afford it
If not, go to hell
The lonely tree
Stood atop the blasted hill
Stark
Barren branches snatching
Rays from a mist-shrouded sun
Every now and then
Upon an errant breeze
Flits a weary bird
Resting one more time
On its final flight
Then falls
All around the roots
Dead birds and ash
Giving meager succour
To the lonely tree
One day
From that blood-soaked soil
This tree’s seed will rise
Green will conquer grey
Once more
But too late
For this final witness
Of our fall
In response to the daily prompt Meager
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting, #postaday
Government Guide to Hospitality
We welcome you with open arms
If you can afford it
If not, go to hell
In response to the daily prompt Hospitality
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
The lonely tree
Stood atop the blasted hill
Stark
Barren branches snatching
Rays from a mist-shrouded sun
Every now and then
Upon an errant breeze
Flits a weary bird
Resting one more time
On its final flight
Then falls
All around the roots
Dead birds and ash
Giving meager succour
To the lonely tree
One day
From that blood-soaked soil
This tree’s seed will rise
Green will conquer grey
Once more
But too late
For this final witness
Of our fall
In response to the daily prompt Final
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
The lonely tree
Stood atop the blasted hill
Stark
Barren branches snatching
Rays from a mist-shrouded sun
Every now and then
Upon an errant breeze
Flits a weary bird
Resting one more time
On its final flight
Then falls
All around the roots
Dead birds and ash
Giving meager succour
To the lonely tree
One day
From that blood-soaked soil
This tree’s seed will rise
Green will conquer grey
Once more
But too late
For this final witness
Of our fall
The weak shall inherit the earth
So it is written
Of course
When the strong are done with it
It will have lost its worth
A played out empty husk
A flooded desert
Then the meek can have it
The lonely tree
Stood atop the blasted hill
Stark
Barren branches snatching
Rays from a mist-shrouded sun
Every now and then
Upon an errant breeze
Flits a weary bird
Resting one more time
On its final flight
Then falls
All around the roots
Dead birds and ash
Giving meager succour
To the lonely tree
One day
From that blood-soaked soil
This tree’s seed will rise
Green will conquer grey
Once more
But too late
For this final witness
Of our fall
The weak shall inherit the earth
So it is written
Of course
When the strong are done with it
It will have lost its worth
A played out empty husk
A flooded desert
Then the meek can have it