art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Fleeting
Fleeting The swirling madness
By Guenneth Speldrong4 years ago in Poets
Morning Slumber
Morning wonder, magic, cool and still. One word resounds with thee....Silence. Refreshing, slumbering legs cut through the fresh morn still. Movement to movement, gaining momentum like the crescendo of the day soon to come. Lysander's spear hurls forth the fiery sun, that warms the land and once again.... beds me fore it weds the night.
By james doig4 years ago in Poets
Threading the Needle…
Threading the Needle… Tuesday, July 27, 2021 9:06 PM "It started with an idea as it always does, then willed into existence through the power of love. Cognitions pondered litany of ruminations, carefully deduced thoughts, weighed and measured considerations. Then the gathering of fibers clever but innocently vain, so many parts each one important twisted till twain. The strings whole exsistence resonant cord, brings me peace and joy when I am bored. But with finished product in mind, whole integer equated. Such an effect, leaves me elated. The peace that I find in my daily meditations, is free when considered and leaves my mind dilated. Sum thing quite worth, the vain travailing. Her precious expression her magical smile, the joy of her heart and by my hand ever worthwhile."
By Mmace Heavyhammer5 years ago in Poets
Mika of Morioka
Love is the splendor of the music all around. And she is in the sound of the music coming down. So it is of a splash of golden sound. All that is to be told with a splash of gold. Truly so it is told with a color of art and of sound. That is with art or is it with color or of sound? That it is in the echo of the colors of the town. It is with a Devine devotion of the town of Morioka. And it is in the splendor of a song with the art of colors with the music of the Mika sound.
By Paul Noel Cimino5 years ago in Poets
