Magic Colour Poem by Antony Glaser

Magic Colour

Rating: 5.0


Lunaria, shimmering on a hill of my making.
The Moon like a sheltered leaf,
always knew better.
Yet I haven't seen hippopotamuses amuse
themselves in clouds of caked mud
or smiles resting for the sadness.
Life for the reaching,
my tongue curling around
self proclaimed aspirations.
The palette perhaps improbable
But its braver your own way.

Monday, August 12, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: Mystery
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dave Walker 12 August 2013

A great poem, like it.

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