The darkest night, flows with a
wind hush through open blackness.
Rivulets spill with water
across the mountain plains;
as liquid rolls down along the steep slope-
Stars glitter through sparkles
of the darkest night.
Wind cold breeze swifts;
swiftly into space.
Laughter engulfs the moon light.
Moon light angles corners,
as sweet melodies swell into air,
You ever sight the bird dance,
as shadow flicker
upon the moon?
Ya’ ever see the moon glow?
Ya’ ever hear the wind whisper? C. Berghmans
It’s transition time again..in the city the sun is still hot and the trees still green but north of us there is a whisper of fall….yet through all the seasons the moon glows and lights the night…here is a semi-abstract painting of that time when gold brings the promise of winter, and we cry…not yet! not yet!
Watercolour in many layers on Arches Not Paper…Toronto, Ontario Canada…