Night comes earlier to the dark of soul.
Blind to the stars
the universe appears as India ink
dripped from the Master’s quill,
one unending amorphous black blot
across the everywhere sky.
Night comes earlier to the dark of soul.
Blind to the stars
the universe appears as India ink
dripped from the Master’s quill,
one unending amorphous black blot
across the everywhere sky.
lillian the home poet 
Morning, Lillian.
Beautifully rich and dark –
You have such a wonderful talent with visual imagery – one can not only see, but feel the symbols, metaphors and emotions of which you speak.
am:)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Many thanks….your words here are extra special considering your artistry with both pen and brush!
Beautiful day in Boston! 🙂
Happy almost weekend!
LikeLike
You’re welcome, my friend 🙂
LikeLike