Pinks, peaches, blues, greys and mauves,
Clouds that cross the sky in droves,
Gently drifting and as they go,
Create such pictures all aglow,
And give a calming of the mind.
My eyes then see trees with hills behind,
A lake and valley, a peaceful scene,
Floating there within a hazy dream,
Believing that it could, in fact, be real,
In colours delicate, and which you feel,
An artist with his very finest brush,
Has painted a perfect landscape, plush.
This view to me is always so fine,
A spectacle of an, exquisite design.
© Ernestine Northover
As are your writes Ernestine.Exquisite in design.So much beauty in your poems and all for us to admire.Love Duncan
Very good work here Ernestine, you have painted a wonderful colour of sunset. This has such good rhythm and flow it was a joy to read.Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A lovely visual write. I was there in my mind.... Warm wishes, Justine.