Sunday Whirl #66
The Melancholy Painter
Swinging the loaded brush with abandon
Mixing the powdered colors
Rosy red
The blood on which she stands
Pale gold the accumulation of years
The pigment covers the plane
Stray drops spray
As she flings the paint
Erotically touching
The tips of greenĀ grass
The picture in her mind’s eye
Emerges
Image from the internet.
____________________
The Mag #127
The Letter
The shadow of your dark image
Crosses before me
The message you have brought
Is BIG
Meaningful
Powerful
You speak to me as only you can
I reach into the dark
Touch your extended fingers
Know you are there
Without fear
I continue the journey
Without map
Strain to see the “way”
Yet you have told me
You are with me
I am not alone