“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 orchid. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orchid. Show all posts
Friday, March 29, 2019
Thine
Certain she was an angel
so no questions were asked
in exchange for quiet
observations
like rites
And I do not believe
in these divine beings
anyway
Her presence
provided a feeling
to pray this reason away
For proof is sought
inside realms invisible
for them to see
Gratefully, I step out
of this shell,
noticing the sleeping orchids swell
while the red breasted finch
thinks of a new song
the angel noticing Him
may know.
Painting by Marcantonio Franceschini from the Dulwich Picture Gallery [Public domain].
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Definitive
Confidence is the fear of failure overcome by intention and action. Deja vu- a memory of the future. Something indistinct. Yet distinct in a...

-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
When I wonder do we first think we Are welcome to the world? From the abyss of a watery womb we hear outside of Us w...