“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label blended. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blended. Show all posts
Saturday, November 25, 2017
likeness
The colors blended
one moment, one thing divides
a-similitude
Painting by Albert Bierstadt, Yosemite, Twin peaks, c.1859 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Drizzle
The muse has been muted while we are both listening for some reason- we have both observed; Profound is not discovery, Epiphany is no certa...
-
Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
-
A year ago this May, in fact, upon this same very grey day- something came over me I found could say, in no other way but to portray, ...
-
Sun lifting the veil of purple sky- might bronze forge strength pungent as the turned dirt? Thirsting through exposition, hi...
