A sky of painted rain from custard yellow clouds, fell beyond my gallery window glass.
The grass a silken thread of cinnamon fire, vermillion and orange tea brewed strong and hot, which ran to choppy rivers damson plum and vintage flowing wine, stretched far beyond my own imagining
to boiling seas of unknown hue.
Did a morning ever dawn which held such colour and such light, If so it isn’t one I ever knew!
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 7:12 AM UTC
A sky of painted rain from custard yellow clouds, fell beyond my gallery window glass.
The grass a silken thread of cinnamon fire, vermillion and orange tea brewed strong and hot, which ran to choppy rivers damson plum and vintage flowing wine, stretched far beyond my own imagining
to boiling seas of unknown hue.
Did a morning ever dawn which held such colour and such light, If so it isn’t one I ever knew!
I wondered what it would be like to wake up in an abstract painting
