Comments about T.C. Barnard
Passion flows through like a rushing river,
Smoothing pebbles with forcible current.
Emotion claws at the red clay earth.
The leaves samba and sway into the night,
Clouds caper through sky drenched with tears of zeal.
Lust tugs at the spellbound strands of grass.
A chatty blue bird beckons its mate
Over the way, its cry is heard.
The sapling's bark bleeds for its confidante,
A honeybee hive buzzes songs of bliss.
Tones of sweet nothings echo the bole.
The sun slowly billows beneath earth's rim,
as a seductive moon strains to the ...