THREE PICTURES PAINTED
The burning embers
emit their glow
and dry the shoes and fustian folds
of elderly men
who sup their ale
surrounded by the wood smoke curls.
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A rainbow peers
through leaded glass
and light beams rain
in slanted straws
with hand outstretched
I catch them in
my open trembling palm.
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The sweeping waves
Pound granite shores
Their limestone crescents
Reaching out
To smoky skylines
Underneath
The threatening ructious skies.
As in music a tone poem is a descriptive piece in one movement/verse.