As black as any June these shadows lie
between the sun's deep illumination,
bright wafers placed to stiffening oblation;
a wall of light flakes, dark recesses tie.
Light sculptures dark and both lie deep content;
a breeze that flaunts their interchanges plays
with rich intricacies, till cloud-edged haze
drains leaf-lamps, black shades to grey movement.
Unclouded now the little space where float
those apple globes - sun-crescents in cluster
of green sails - and hides the trick of trailing bough
against dark backdrop. These magics muster,
self-organized, prod painterly know-how.
Breeze pauses: over his still-lives sun gloats.
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YOU ARE READING
Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
