The Last Day Of Blue
Under buckskin skies
Twilight hunts colour
Arrowed > into
The deer seeks shelter
Edged on blued nunatak
Fearful of falling into another’s story.
Intensely sense the flow of
Broken bracken in brooks, eye blue
Snares the sinew of
Land in cerulean radial.
Grunt of gypsy rain
Thunder lion at the world pane
Electric mane and (rain)paw
Trawling the swamp sky
Dragging chairs over ceilings.
A twinned reliquary.
The deer shivers,
Thou cradles warmth of vision
To birth a memory breeched
Betwixt a library of yesterdays, and
Blood-bow arcs from hoof to breast
The beast walks into a picture
Expecting to be homed over fireplace
Beside digitalis-ed families
& sub-urbanised sad clowns,
Wooden frame buckles
Under weight of splattered paint;
Leaving artist’s crippled hands
As if ocean wasn’t enough,
In sun sprayed glade
The survivalists memory wash
Inking thru’ silvered streams.
Those who tasted unrelenting rain
Flounder under mere drizzle.
Frome the other side of the river
There is a muting echo of truth & feeling,
A deceptive quietness lingers as dew
Long after hungering heat has devoured
Remnants of morning flesh.
The one who calls himself Jesus
Collects wood from drifting dredges, to
Resurrect cross on Motorway edge,
Steals nails from a hardware store
Threads crown from catacomb webs -
Stand up for another f
Dreamers can still dream.
**Oceans of rose petals to Uma for creation of the visual xx