scenery
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The sky was blue, the plants covered in dew,
and the spring made it all feel so new.
Everything in your head could melt away
with a morning in the mountains
surrounded by a foggy grey.
Enveloped in a blanket of sauna,
the weight of humidity calms me.
Faint breezes bare relief only when I need it.
Our porch seems to sit like a tree house
Here in the branches of my childhood climbing tree.
A cloud so unreliableto provide such decent shadethough many stop to watch themthey're perfect, they're God made..They're made of wispy waterso white up in the skycollections of lovely ice
Its cold in the twelve month.
When winter comes and Summer ends.
When the rays of sunshine turn to cloudy skies and chilly winds.
When the snow falls in a rush, a flurry of white.
He was gone before I could meet him
Still, I knew him
The pictures hung on the wall
Lonely.
The scenic views he saw
His passion apparent in every stroke
Charcol smeared and painted
She stood, hair lapping in the frigid night air, at the coast. The rocky barrier separated the gravel road from a smooth, black and lapping bay. It was pitch black, like thick coffee with grinds that managed to escape into the brew. Lapping.
Whisper-red clouds in the dusky day
A wheel of passion upon the sky
Puzzles of earth growing nigh
Whipped with wind dancing to the free
And children singing in the dusky day
