the splendour

wrote large in letters high,
the world enveloped,
green acres,
the wet cool pastures,
and the sunken past
resting out its dying days
beneath the restlessly swaying grasses.

we were soaked,
soaked through to the skin,
our every curve
apparent proud,
naked to the skylark
as he rises up to sing.

we stood awed at the splendour,
every single word and colour,
clung to us every tiny fibre,
the places we have seen.

in our dreams we ventured,
apart or sometimes together,
our hearts were drained
the wind would gently recite our names,

if we listen we hear them
we can hear it again.

if we listen we hear them
we can hear them again.

the splendour

uncleblack

Joined February 2010

  • Artwork Comments 10

Artwork Comments

  • © Karin Taylor
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desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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