7 of 54

by S. james-T Ward

Hues in Trespass...

The morning sky left to die
it seems as thunder bid good bye
and lightning then withdrew its sting
its whetted edge and blood begins
drop by seething droplet by
its trespass wounds and wing.

Fabric torn of heavens weave
and earthly sky set between
weeps of misting crimson thread
pallid hues and listless bled
melding lingered blues or green
and splashed the sky-line dead.

Ti's left to die, morning sky
yet none bid farer well but I
and sadness glares in bitter light
reflected in the death tonight
while many gasp these trespass hues
beauty somehow rues.

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Poetry: Rainbows

by S. james-T Ward

Poetry: Rainbows

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