Alive
The hills are alive with light
As we fly there with all our might
The sky is covered with soft wine
That slips through fingers of mine
The daylight eats the light fog
My wings feel like a heavy log
We climb up the hill at night
Knowing we are not completely right
Liquid drips down my heavy brow
Calling out for a refreshing vow
Live is an endless climb
Of trying to make a rhyme
A live sketch!
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Art et Poésie au Crayon Livre suivant (Art and Poetry with a Pencil Part 2)
PoetryThese are rhymed and free form poems that express my thoughts on art, science, philosophy, life, love, politics and death as told from a scientist's point of view in some cases. This is poetry book No. 8
