His Poetry In Motion Poem by Patricia Gale
His Poetry In Motion
Gently spinning, twirling …..Silence the golden sound
Crisp ashy brown
Falling down
Golden yellow, amber red
Slowly descending to its bed
Golden strands of Irish fair
Brush gently along my face
Cool crisp tingling air
Suddenly I become lost in this place
Pausing…… slowly inhaling
A warmness touches my soul
Autumns beauty unveiling
Serenity from the Master, taking control
His grace finds me here in this creation
The wooded area becomes my salvation
I am free from all that binds me
Cleansing my soul, underneath the mighty oak tree
Hi Patricia! Your poetry has captured His Poetry in Motion, His poetry supreme! (10) ! Thad
A mighty oak and a muse in fall. A lovely image, not confusing at all. - chuck
Beautiful display of resplendent imagework, princess...Glad i stopped by to visit on site this late Sunday night...Hope you are well.Happy Thanksgiving. ~ ~ ~
I am quite impressed in your use of imagery! Subtlety used at its finest, masterful! Proves the tenet that less is more in language as your imagery broadens ones scope of understanding.
You invite your reader into the most serene, engaging, poetic of worlds. t x
Patricia, I don't know how you do it, but your poetry seems to have such a timeless beauty to it, it's so peaceful and it sweeps over you touching your soul.. Just beautiful work lady, if only I could give you more than ten...10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 2:57:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
One of the nicest poems I've read in a fair while. Very, very good. Keep up the great work.