Trinity of suns. Morning, afternoon and eve. Each cast their light Fanning their own shades of brightness Spanning our hours, our fathers' hours, Our children's hours. There is comfort here, now, in the solid stone, The unadorned simplicity. And , if we pause a while, We realise that Time is our only constant. Linking to Sunday Muse Blogspot. Thank you Carrie - your images continue to inspire. http://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/
Illusion or solid?
Droplets begin their tap dance.
On my window,
Or on the lode?
Flatlands of sleep,
Or marshes of the East?
I have goose bumps of premonition
As finally I shake the dust
Of a dream riddle
And wonder –
Has the journey started
Or reached its end?
Linking this to d’Verse poets and Sarah’s invitation to write an ekphrastic poem to a selection of artwork by Lee Madgwick. See Link below:
You let go gently
like softly collapsing sand,
impressions fading with each step,
leaving a dying warmth
of soft burnt orange
hanging in the air.
Cannot resist K. Hartless’s Petite Pen invitations …(https://khartless.com/2022/08/09/custard-cream-evening/)
Autumn smudges its muddy realities.
It is a yellow-less palette.
Eventually all the warm colours will fade.
Silence is ice white, pitch black.
Linking this to K. Hartless’s Petite Pen spot on Yardsale of Thoughts (https://khartless.com/2022/06/14/the-things-unsaid).