A blanket of black shrouds the world
As orange pink streaks fade into the horizon.
Upon the cape, luminous beads are woven;
Beacon by beacon ceaselessly flickering
Until the night’s robes are gradually unveiled
By a golden globe of a new dawn.
A gruff jagged face of earth
Accumulates weeping scars and dimples,
Carved by Creator’s winds.
Balding over time; blades of fresh spiked grass
Pale to patches of dishevelled blond reaves,
While fuzzy moss wedges itself in between naked rock
Like dark tuffs of fur entangled in faded bristles of a worn brush.
The elders of the world
Leave generations before and after
Awe and brimming with wonder
Of the world shaped by time,
That does not turn back.
*Inspo from my two day trip at Apollo Bay. Forest scenery is amazing- vivid colours and crisp air.
Recalling moments
Record sentiments of tales
Retelling the past.
Engulfed by Words 