Sun warms up the stone Fire warms the winter skin. Both are light's own kin.
By Darla M Seely10 months ago in Poets
Sun, the cosmic force Burning in the silent void Fuelng all our lives
Birds begin to wake Singing to the creeping red Darkness creeps away
Fingers made of light Stretching through the canopy Dappled forest floor
Purple, pink, and gold Spilling on the canvas sky Days soft closing door.
Heavy yellow light Pressing down on wilted grass, Cicadas scream loud.
Golden disk descends Piercing through th emorning mist. Day begins its march.
Sun just tripped over Upturning a pail of pink; Color permeates.
Bright sun is shining; Lost tree leaves, and dust, blowing Children chasing fun
Fire of autumn leaves Highlights all of their beauty And transformation
Stories in the smoke Ghostly shapes and laughing spaeks Summer's night delights.
your kind, gentle gaze creates, disrupts sensations is it cold outside?
By F Cade Swanson10 months ago in Poets
