ramblings and things

1,225,305 poems read

Creation Day 2

By the time the artist woke his work was set firm
A swathing darkly circling light speckled band
So the artist cleaned and swept his studio then
From the dust and debris roughly cast the land
Dark, barren, and arid, beneath that wondrous sky
To be shaped and formed with his palette knife
Mountain, valley, plain, grey and black and cold
Devoid of any movement, not yet fit for any life
But by his stars
Very gently lit
And he though
That it was fit
Left there the final cast to cure and finally harden
Stretched his back, and carefully put his tools away
Well satisfied with all the progress made on that
Second, long  hard, trial and error Creation Day.

Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Creation Day 2