The rain gently falls, doing its pitter patter dance upon my window / the sky is dark and dreary / The heavens have opened and released its…
It doesn’t care if you are glad, mad or sad. / Nor that it causes man to sweat and swear; / If it leaves him attired only in his underwear….
Weather doesn’t consult with the wizened or the simpleton of its patterns
Whispers in my ear, / tussling of my hair, / and sweeping me / off my feet. / Wrapping a blanket / around me, / warmth engulfs my form, / new br…
Okay, so this is slightly different from me….I wanted to kind of personify the wind here; making the reader unsure as to whether it were a lover I was thinking of…. Try re-reading thinking of it the other way, I think it works…..
spring sun / hides behind clouds— / rains….....again
sun peeks / stagnant rain cloud— / rainbow forming
leaves soaked / torrential rain pours— / sun appears
The soothing rain / A bright flash~ / The sky grumbles.
Oh glorious sun arising / I see you are a shining / Giving out your warmest glow / Melting even keenest snow Who knows wherest you’ll app…
Separate needles of cold rain are falling from a silver sky on a chilly autumn morning / Oblivious that they have left behind the silent d…
She, / Like a tree, Just kept on growing, / Until growing became knowing
/ Kellie Cranmer is one of the most incredible artists I have met up with here on RB. I have always marveled at her ability to see the lighter side of this existence as well as the rich deep layers of life we are challenged to embrace and perhaps create with. Her own personal experiences as of late has inspired my own view of who I am as artist as well as my own appreciation for each moment of life here on Planet Marvel! I went to her PF and saw this piece. I have seen it many times but never commented nor wrote on it. I love this creation. It is so feminine and powerful. I wrote a poem inspired by this work and she has given me permission to add the art to the poem. Thanks you Kellie! / . / MOTHER NATURE BY KELLIE CRANMER /
Butterfly performs her dying dance, / Her final night on the stage. / Listless wings applaud themselves, / This night is her resting place.
Observations of a wet English dusk
Let’s take a walk through the street / And watch the leaves turn bright red / As snow crystals fall into a blank sheet of ice / The sun will…
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