The canvas has its depths too*
Fresh snow blowing, disorganized with dismay
All through the night and a great deal during the day
It starts its abundance and it has many piles
Look out the window in the countryside for miles
The coverings like many blankets with no path
This white Angel so pure but shows its wrath
Dom*Colucci 2011
Fingerpainting in the snow
ReplyDeleteone can create from ones imagination
on the go
This canvas can be such a creative
invitation
If one uses ones imagination
Yet when one has to go from here to there
it creates problems
of that I am aware
We think we can put nature to our hands
but in the middle of this idea
in the snow it strands
:)
Lovely portrait my Dearest...when I read the first line I can only think of snow angels...as maybe it was a Freudian slip when I made this poem...enjoy as well Love(+)
ReplyDeleteDom*;)xoxoxo---{--@