Beauty In It's Humblest Poem by Asphalt Falls...
Beauty In It's Humblest
The sun’s radiating warmth
Expelling the dark clouds
The wind, bearing cold
Leading the leaves’ dance
The frayed church tower’s
Bell tolling noon’s twelve
The finely-made parchments
Soaring of the wind
So natural
This art of Mother’s
Compared to thee
My Beauty is naught
(January 14,2010)
Thursday, January 14, 2010
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4/25/2024 12:54:50 AM # 1.0.0.1119
