Not A Poem

Requested to re-issue this:-

Largely Confidential

Not A Poem

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I am. Therefore I think.

I think in colour, and in light.
I think the colours of the night.

I think along the daytime path
I crunch on gravel and I laugh..

To see the branches, climbing, soaring.
Wind, it’s colours racing, roaring.

Grey gulls, crow-black shadows,
bright blue sky, ochre adders.

Ice-blue frost on ivy green,
Robin red-breast.. hovering,
keen to say hello.

Avenues of old wisteria colour dreams,
hysteria banished by morning schemes..

Of rose, and violet, gentian, teal.
Garden bound, I know I’ll feel
alive. Again.

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Green fingers, red cheeks,
blue noses. It’s not weeks
till winter creeps in..lily-livered,
paper-thin..

Leaves of copper, bronze, and gold
have fallen now ..carpeting ground
with sound.

Golden mornings, azure skies,
turn to promises, and lies.

Silver linings torn from clouds
to make of golden moments, shrouds.

Past and present – future too
are coloured by a hue…

View original post 46 more words

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About largelyhelen

Designer, photographer, writer.
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