Your golden beam, ring
freshness
round my face
in fretting heights
no less purer
than the rustling leaves
breezing a secret whisper
to my crumpled heart
painted in yellow -
Van Gogh sunflower
Your joyful brush, paint
orche of earth
over me
in much on my blank canvas
no less parted
than the azure of skies
mirroring an echo
deeper down
towards an ocean bed -
His mystical portrait
No comments:
Post a Comment