Wavering world, seen in the ripples raised by a hand a stone the flip of a fish tail the delicate violence of a feeding bird. How strange the ruffling shapes of trees lines and colors painted on a clear undulating canvas. Faces flit between waves of light and dark. Across the pond a loon’s trill floats over the water falling into rhythm with this wavering world.
05 Tuesday Mar 2013
I could sit down with these words and allow them to gradually lead me into a better and more peaceful place
Ronald E. Shields said:
Thank you for taking the time to read my poetry and leave such a nice comment.
Your paintings are extraordinary and the combination with your poetry is a nice touch.