I like the way light morphs itself
as the setting sun hides
behind an anvil head silhouette.
And as the fireball falls
below trees and sky
it is as if the whole world
were set afire
When darkness settles
the hush explodes;
a thousand chaotic
froggy sirens calls.
Then the owls thud
startles mossy limbs,
his slow moving flaps
purse the air, so distinct.
Then the grasses shudder and twitch,
little mousy squeaks out
catch me now, if you can
catch me, 'cause I’m it.
The sky, it always speaks to me
of life and love and things
we wish for, but rarely see.
This pice actually created a twinkle in my eye.
Rare.... rarely, does that happen.
Congradulations.
For touching, reaching, creating,& provoking life.
A slight smile inwardly mind you, accompanied that spark of twinkle.
My gratitude extended.
((Sigh)) I love sunsets too... Better than any t.v. show, and more beautiful than any painting-- even of sunsets, because these shift as you watch... amazing, aren't they? --Charlie
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
From First Love to its destructive end and on to new beginnings, Mary Angela Nangini's poems explore the birth and death of a relationship. The powerful poems are presented in two parts with an introduction to her next book My Ontario Beautiful. (Th
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Dave.
Cryssa
Rare.... rarely, does that happen.
Congradulations.
For touching, reaching, creating,& provoking life.
A slight smile inwardly mind you, accompanied that spark of twinkle.
My gratitude extended.
Sincerely
Rodney Evan Bohen
Rodney
I salute You, Poet
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Fee
Your beautiful words and photo capture the sunset wonderfully.
Lovely writing, Stuart from (downunder)
Light and hope shine in your beautifully illustrative piece - thank you. Stay safe, my (((friend))). Well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.