Painting Angels Poem by James Smith
Painting Angels
Now and then I paint angels,
I sense their there,
But I have never observed
Them; I would be terrified.
The latest starts a la
Carravagio,
Burnt umber underpainting
Then the shadows,
After that I'm on my own
A blurred vision my only guide.
Afterwards as elders must
I question,
How will it be, the passing
And where my destination?
Wednesday, December 16, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: angels
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5/5/2024 2:30:25 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Vision only guide, great write