by sophiasummerNorthland, New Zealand
Mar 2017 609 Views 1 comments
Art
I run through
At
Times I feel the memory
A pace
Hearten beaten
Thumping
Flicks of time
relax me
Can dig that
Swinging to bird song beats
The call
yet disappear
to create
the beauty
that will come and go
grasping is a silent
dying art
Wanna paint
or
faint
Wanna write
and take fold what you create
be strong
spill the
forgotten
under done steak
At
Times I feel the memory
A pace
Hearten beaten
Thumping
Flicks of time
relax me
Can dig that
Swinging to bird song beats
The call
yet disappear
to create
the beauty
that will come and go
grasping is a silent
dying art
Wanna paint
or
faint
Wanna write
and take fold what you create
be strong
spill the
forgotten
under done steak
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2017
About this poem:
Such beautiful art is silently around.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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