The sky is a dark canvass
On which the angels paint,
At first glance there is nothing there
Just sketch marks oh so faint.
They wash the sky with pale tones
Of oranges, creams and pink
Next they add black silhouettes,
Stark trees is what I think! !
The foreground now is oh so black
With no shapes or form
They are just whispy shadows
'Til they are lit up by the dawn
It truly is a masterpiece
Which they paint everyday
Each one is unique and special
In there own amazing way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love your poetry..especially the poems about Angels..