View From My Window
Landscapes
How an artist writes,
with strokes and bends,
as the troubled nights,
fades and ends,
whispered secrets
turn and coil
like a watched pot that
doesn't boil.
with strokes and bends,
as the troubled nights,
fades and ends,
whispered secrets
turn and coil
like a watched pot that
doesn't boil.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Landscapes
Landscapes