Sean Kemball's Blog (1)

Garden Poetry

this is the garden:colours come and go,
frail azures fluttering from night's outer wing
strong silent greens serenely lingering,
absolute lights like baths of golden snow.
this is the garden:pursed lips do blow
upon cool flutes within wide glooms,and sing
(of harps celestial to the quivering string)
invisible faces hauntingly and slow.


this is the garden. time shall surely…
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Added by Sean Kemball on June 18, 2010 at 8:29pm — 1 Comment

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