There....
he carried her image
into the woods
for to paint her
in colours of her seasons
rich in autumal gold
with the essence of
new bud still shining
from eyes of gameplay
thrilling the beauty
of mature limbs reach
firmly earthed
in soils of reality.
Here....
colours of her love
surrounded him.
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Author:
dusk arising (
Offline) - Published: November 27th, 2020 00:28
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Dan
Offline)
Comments7
a beautifully crafted dedication DA .. this could easily have been written both to and for my favourite oak tree in autumn or spring .. a noble specimen indeed and with a spiritual if not sacred presence ...
That image will be forever with you d a and may the colours of that love be always there.
Andy
Good write dusk.
And now my poem 'Here and there', It's like your poem, but in reverse.
A gentle reminder that limbs can bud best when mature - colours of love indeed my friend and so expertly presented.
Ooooo, ending with goosebumps!
Magnificence flow and definitely felt a gentle wisdom of why we let it all out!
Lovely imagery and fusion between feelings and sensations flowing around the words
J
Beautifully done. Rich in its description.
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