art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Here or There
A soft breath flees me, steps ever so motional but yet with no direction at all. The passing of golden hour as it shifts into twilight has now commenced as I bask beneath the fading light. A butterfly subtly bounces to and fro as if she too knows not where exactly she'll go.
By Sai Marie Johnsonabout a year ago in Poets
Splendid Sunshine ☀️
Fawning winds are blowing this wayBeyond the realms of time and spaceA fealty feel flows in its hastiest hasteAs sweet summer summons in all it's graceIn foaming twilights, like an enigma to be born yet delving in shades As a quiver in bowers, rustling thro' gladesThat and more, staged to groom, ever in or ever for—that eternal light to encircle fate And with each step onwards full dazzling, perfectly quite over hearty spaceO! Look! What's freshly woven in that sunrise casting nature's galeAh! That’s everlasting love,bracing undisguised in its warmest embrace Ever to come gently, to be bidden,shining forth in all its brightness, illuming that inner space—For those joys to spill thro' as in a musical graceThus, full on -naïveté to mark it's own space! For what c’d be told of it, as it harmlessly robs like some banker’s deficit caught apaceWith debtors's and creditor's, equally proportioned, profiting wholly as similarly same!© « Madhu Goteti Sept 20, 2021
By Madhu Goteti about a year ago in Poets
