Sunday, 28 October 2012

Autumn evenings

It's a very strange pain
that blossoms in my heart
like a three and a quarter petal orchid

A faint scent of violet, indeed
Oh...the fragrance of a colour
changes the way my evenings feel

The walls bleed music
of a thousand years past
stories of a lute and a trombone and you

I see you humming to yourself
and the stage of the world burns
ashes clog the flow of time for eternity

You paint my thoughts
the hue of your lips
I become a muddy pool of blue

You have ink in your veins
the moon is a blank sheet of paper inevitable piece of poetry

1 comment:

PD said...

Hmm... good one.