Skip to main content

Come the dawn.


When the night is gone let us paint it back up with its hanging moon and stars drawing glances toward the darkened sky behind, near to empty ‘til filled up, brimming with brushed on clouds, in grey light dimming, fading not into tomorrow, lingering on. Speechless, thoughtless, moving, they fall down into twin glasses of wine, and shimmer on velvet waves, a dim reflection of yesterday.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I put it to you:

What is wrong with moustaches? Eh?

For Every Problem, a Solution (4)

God as depicted throughout the ages.  No Alanis Morissette, and, no, that isn't ironic.

Unfinished business

And I don't expect to be paid for a job I never completed. Or any other, when it comes to art. >_> Other notes: -Drawn somewhere around 2004/2005. -I like blue.