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| Image: Nightfall by Steven Miller |
Looking out at the horizon…
a splash of colours on the run…
a canvas-trained artist’s sun…
peeping out like a dying saffron…
farthest down is the crimson…
through amber goes the transition…
and a streak of deepest blue was sent;
inking its way up it was spent.
the finishing touch from God’s brush lent
the white and pure and pearly crescent,
the moon which lured this merry minstrel,
as the black of night’s curtain fell…
Theme: Like a Moth to a Flame No one was surprised when they announced the awardee. There were only three nominees, and even so, with the kind of success he’d enjoyed that year, or even just the quarterly figures of […]
I still remember the rhymes of the moon,And the secret wishes of growing up soon.Trying at times to be the amateur dad, Tiny feet in dadās big shoes made me glad.Momās lipstick all over the face,Hiding behind the curtain not […]
Theme: Like a Moth to A Flame! I’m aware of the fire coursing through my veins. I shiver and sweat. It’s cold outside, in the wee hours of the morning. Fading remains of darkness linger in the sky. What […]
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