heartdrops by lakesides
The Lady of the Lake knows the heaviness of Excalibur weighing the paths of Arthur, Launcelot and Guinevere. What would be her measure of the depth of lotus petals atop a valley which once was a lake, and the pull of waters west? Running past charred rivers on crinkled silver she tripped on heartdrops from lakesides. Time to ask the sea.
From either shore of the cold North Sea the painters beckon " wait !" with pigment coloured calls. Trying to stay afloat in the middle swimming paintstroke by backstroke I hope to be hoisted aboard a pirate ship.
From either shore of the cold North Sea the painters beckon " wait !" with pigment coloured calls. Trying to stay afloat in the middle swimming paintstroke by backstroke I hope to be hoisted aboard a pirate ship.