Vaughn Bekker - Poetry My Brush (first non rhyming)

Описание

If poetry was a brush And my words were my paint Let your mind be your eyes Let the strokes of my words feed your soul Of soaring eagles, circling, watching Over white tipped mountains, towering Standing proud, with valleys at their feet With lush green tree tops looking up in awe Cold clear water from melted snow Falling over waterfalls, moving in slow motion Winding rivers that Carve the earth Pushing forward to feed the ocean Beautiful sunrise as it peeps over mountain tops Giving warm rays of light, feeding all Clouds full of rain, shower life to every grain of sand A golden sunset that disappears off the horizon Rolling desert sands that dance with the wind Dead grains of sand teaming with life Amazing lakes, still like glass mirror the sky Watching flocks of birds playing in the breeze Rocking waves pushing back and forth Icebergs bobbing like ice in a glass Vast ocean waters that swallow the sky Ships crossing a seemingly endless void If my words painted a picture for all to see One painting but different to all Each beautiful to the minds eye May it`s beauty feed your soul 23 may 2010 Vaughn Bekker poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-my-brush-first-non-rhyming/