Such delight
It seems
The artist took
With godly visage
And none too small
The chisel hammered
With whimsical caprice
A fitting ode to Gods
Whose whims become
The stuff of legends told
Category: Art
Beauty in Stone
Gentle lines
In weathered stone
A beauty marked
By time
Patinaed, etched
Distressed
By life and the elements
Beautiful all the more
Red and the Wolf
I knew the wolf
To be a wolf
But in the forest
He was kind to me
So did not think
To give a shout
Let Grandma know
Wolf was about
April fool, tis me
No fool
The Woodsman, he
Fortunately
Or for dessert
Wolf would have had
Me
Frame ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #279
The Past
Cropped and framed
Colour corrected and edited
Burnished and patinaed
To make a picture
That tells the story
I wish to remember
Poetry ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #276
Words arranged in verse
Form a matrix of possibility
An author’s intentions
A reader’s interpretations
Layers deep
Miles wide
All this also present
In a single word such as
Aum
Love
God
Beauty
Perfection
Each a poem with all the
Subtle renderings and possibilities of
AngelouÂ
Frost
Dickinson
Shakespeare
Plath
The final meaning rests solely
And rightfully with the reader
Starlight ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #271
A light which burned
For ten short years
Burned thrice as bright
And yet…
unseen
Like beacons in
The darkened sky
Which lived and died
Aeons ago
But whose light
Has reached us
…Only now
Though in that beam
Cast by hands and heart
Long gone
My spirits rise
I find again
…Delight
In starry starry night
Ice ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #261
His was a visage of ice
Cold, chiseled
A frosty burn to the touch
Which not even the fire
Of his desire
Could melt
It protected him
It destroyed him
It hardened him
It betrayed him
For anyone could see
Just below the surface
The heat his coldness
Would never emit
Cold, chiseled
A frosty burn to the touch
Which not even the fire
Of his desire
Could melt
It protected him
It destroyed him
It hardened him
It betrayed him
For anyone could see
Just below the surface
The heat his coldness
Would never emit
His was a visage of ice
Cold, chiseled
A frosty burn to the touch
Which not even the fire
Of his desire
Could melt
It protected him
It destroyed him
It hardened him
It betrayed him
For anyone could see
Just below the surface
The heat his coldness
Would never emit
Cold, chiseled
A frosty burn to the touch
Which not even the fire
Of his desire
Could melt
It protected him
It destroyed him
It hardened him
It betrayed him
For anyone could see
Just below the surface
The heat his coldness
Would never emit
The Maze
I was already deep inside
And lost
Before I realized it was a
Maze
And lost
Before I realized it was a
Maze
But there are times
Places
To not mind being
Lost
The walls seemed sculpted
Textured
With saturated tones of
Warmth
And so I walked
Aimless
Lost in the beauty of the
Walls
Until suddenly I was
Outside
Safe, yet wanting to go
Back
Sometimes it is
OK
To lose my
Self
Landscapes
These things we do to landscapes
Of space and time
Of politics and social norms
Of family and friends
The things that stay
But never stay the same
The ephemeral things
Lost and soon forgotten
Nothing ever stays
But change
Which is often the point
Of these things we do to landscapes
Change the landscape
Change each other
Change ourselves
Pix to Words 