Colors Poem by Bill Cantrell
Colors
All along the rainbows edge,
Angels are placing their wings to dry
Having softened the face of the killing storm,
They leave her a clear blue sky
Sensing inspiration,
At the rainbows edge the poetess sits
Her inkwell is her pot of gold,
Where all the colors gently drip
Ripples of emotions roll
The covenant of the pen she holds dear
Something about her poetry though,
That always draws me near
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/9/2024 8:08:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Inspiration! ! Colours! Muse of the rainbow in unity. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.