Song of the Sky
Whispers adorn the sky
Chilling winds and dying, breathy voices
The road is a blackboard
With essays of footprints written upon it
The air is still
As are the trees
But the sky is not
The sky talks mindlessly to someone
It murmurs and mutters
Supported by the Earth
Pressured by Space
The sky is home to the brain of a flower
The flower is red
Some say the colo...
Tuesday 16th May 2017 1:35 pm
Recent Comments
Graham Sherwood on Average
2 hours ago
Auracle on The Price of Liberty
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Price of Liberty
4 hours ago
Auracle on On An English Canal
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Price of Liberty
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Luimneach [Faoi PrÃomh-Aire na Breataine]
4 hours ago
Auracle on The Price of Liberty
4 hours ago
John Coopey on On An English Canal
5 hours ago
Hélène on Playing in the Garden
5 hours ago
Hélène on Playing in the Garden
5 hours ago