A fainter stroke of the artists brow
Took me to the shadows now.
Its darkness embered by the black.
Its brush of midnight, sweet attack.
If angels wept, and tears of joy,
Focused apt to their employ.
Tben darkness be, but not be seen.
As the apple from the tree.
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Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 11th, 2026 06:02
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
Offline)
Comments3
Nice turn of phrase there, more than the nice, with the apples and the darkness 🕊️🙏
Thank you. I appreciate your compliment
Most welcome my friend 🕊️🙏🏻
it flows beautifully
This biblical reference to dark and light apples from the tree is nicely framed in rhyme of poetry. Well done
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