"illuminations" poems
Brother.
You are a vampire.
Why do you lust for blood?
Brother.
They have found out now.
Your death is certain.
Detest that agony.
Writhe with rage.
You will be lynched,
And burned in the sun.
Brother.
You are a Vampire.
Royalty runs in your veins.
You lust for blood.
Like a peasant for coins.
Die now.
In royal vain.
You ended your world.
When you ****** the life,
Out of the child.
That boy.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
A sensuous sound eagerly heard
by my raw soul,
a sound like an angel whispering
and kindly teasing
The scent of the salty breeze
caressing and stirring my senses
My heart ceases
at the sight of the swelling ocean,
like a forgotten friend
Twinkling illuminations twirling
on the swaying
saturated skin
Impatient to be at one
with the rhythmic sways
to mother natures
heavenly work of art
Each time the images are transformed
I believe that this is my first time
and I have been unseeing
to this utopia
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC
*Oh.. on this festivities
My illumination of LOVE
My Noor - my Belovedz
Become my LOVER & BELOVEDz*
Among millions of stars in the sky
The one star that I saw
By the grace of your glow
In the darkest nights
YOU sparkle your colors
Soaring wings in flight
Within unknown celestial cosmos
Touching my dark oceanic shores
Oh my Noor - my BELOVEDz
This is the purest blessing
I beg from YOU
Just let one sparkle of your LOVE
Fall in my lap - inside my womb
Let me give birth to YOU
Create a replica of YOU within me
This is the prophecy of Nature
The truest word of Mother nature
Every God/dess proclaims in scriptures
A golden commandment of AGAPE LOVE
For the future of the world
To survive and sustain on LOVE
That is the reason I've been chosen for
For your light to pierce in my SOUL
My Noor - my BELOVEDz
My existence is touched by your LOVE
I seek inner LOVE with your illuminations
YOU are the first passion of my LOVE
YOU remain the last obsession of my LIFE
Humans life-time is too minuscule
Compared to LOVE's immortality YOU illuminate
YOU are present in every breath
Of my birth to death - darkness to light
YOU remain my North-Star,
I remain YOUR LOVE's navigator
YOUR SOUL is my destination,
I remain your LOVER - a LOVE seeker
My Noor - My BELOVEDz
Just show little charity
By dropping your LOVE energy
Inside my womb of creation
Please forgive...
My obsession of YOU
My passionate LOVE for YOU
My intimate talks on LOVE
My showing YOU - my joyful tears
I am mere human - seeking your LOVE
I may not be PERFECT -
My Noor - My BELOVEDz
Light my imperfections with your illuminations
Just give me a space in your inner being
Let me touch that
Source of LOVE's light within YOU
I just ask one thing from your sparkle
Annihilate me, dissolve me, absorb me
Within your darkness forever
Where I can unite with your LOVE
The ultimate LOVE source - Illumination
*Oh.. on this festivities
My illumination of LOVE
My Noor - my Belovedz
Become my LOVER & BELOVEDz*
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
*" It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews,
Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and
Illuminations from one End of this Continent
to the other from this Time forward forever more.”
John Adams – July 3, 1776.*
Webster Groves - 2016
The Townhall fountain dances
cheerily in the morning sun.
The red-white-blue shirted crowd
rises as one for the colors.
Laughing children scramble for
tootsie rolls and sweet tarts
tossed by a strolling clown.
Philadelphia, July 3, 1776
Carriages sped toward Philadelphia
where resolute patriots
would turn the pages of history
and tell an unsuspecting world
that a new nation had given birth to itself.*
Sousa strains peal from the marching Statesmen,
Girl Scouts guide their well-groomed mounts -
hooves echoing through concrete caverns.
Vintage firetrucks and autos
sound their horns and sirens
as candidates work the crowd, pressing the flesh.
*Each crass insult from the British crown
had tightened the noose on the colonial neck.
The middle ground was soaked with patriot blood
and revolution was the only course left.*
Barbecue clouds drift over Pat and Lee’s farm
Horseshoes spin and clang and frisbees fly.
A pot-luck feast with beans and franks
interrupts the pop and glare of bottle rockets.
*One by one, each patriot quilled the parchment
resolved to endure the costs of liberty -
knowing to the marrow that defeat
would spell certain ******* and death.*
We reach the lakeshore at dusk -
unfolding chairs - spreading out blankets -
strains of Americana drift over the lake.
then a pyro-technic extravaganza
blazes across the summer sky.
*Washingon’s tattered and bloodied men
cornered Cornwallis at Yorktown.
Then surrender - all British claims
to American soil banished to the tomes of history.*
The grand finale pummels the darkened sky
raising cheers and whistles from the crowd
Toddlers collapse in parental arms,
car doors slam, engines ignite
and head-lighted caravans, turn for home,
spiraling off in every compass degree.
“Happy birthday,” America and endless happy returns
"from this time forward forever more!”
Robert Charles Howard
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC
Tallow
The candle and I bear witness
to the long, lone, and restless night.
With a match, we bring ourselves to light
brilliant reminders of finer days past.
forced forth
out of love
not meant to last,
We complement each other in our fading vigilance,
twisting,
smoldering,
struggling
we fall,
exhausted or, dripping
We grow ever small.
Used,
they saw the one true answer,
and so it was
the only light.
No will,
no arms
with which to fight,
no rival to the endless stars, the all shared night
a sky that taught the world to dance.
Symbols of hope and knowledge
not brought into this world by chance.
To flicker and hiss or claim our right.
Wax sealed the deed and blinded our sight.
Born to burn and ever so fast.
Brilliant reminders of those finer days past,
wrought for a purpose,
understanding, it was never to last.
Illuminations are made,
in shadow we cast.
Those that sputter and waver,
gutter and wane,
flee before storms, slip from the reins.
Yet from us,
the lights still glow,
revealing the truths the Greats longed to know.
Some writhe .
Others twinkle
I smoke
and then fall
until there is nothing left
of us at all.
Here but once, and once alone
Is it just once, and all from a spark?
Our essence is , YEARNING
not Dawn, nor the Dark.
Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 12:48 PM UTC
*Sacramental Elixir & Illuminated Blues,
Experimental Flauntings Of Her Midsummer Hues,
Radioactive Eyes & Her Fairytale Lies,
Seductive Abuses Across The New Divide,
Vivid Intersections In Her Phenomenal Rage,
Shatterproof Reflections Splattered Upstage,
Midnight Passions Of Her Perplexed Lust,
Starlight Rains Glittering Hybrid Dusts,
Transitional Paradigms & Engineered Moans,
Theatrical Concoctions In Her Symphonic Tones,
Flirtatious Illuminations Under The Darkest Light,
Stained Animations Igniting Kryptonite,
Palisades Of Her Collated Reflections,
Cascades Emitting Her Sedated Projections,
Contraband Infatuation Resonating Magnetic Love,
Raving Constellations Provocating Atomic Dove,
Divine Catharsis Of Her Cupid Amour Eternity,
Valentine Bliss Mystifying Her Restrained Insanity,
Charismatic Futility & ****** Binge,
Cinematic Tranquility Emanating From Her Bulletproof Sins,
Neon Subways & Fragile Foreplays,
Sensual Arrays Of Her Red-Light Decays.
- 03:53AM -*
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 6:30 PM UTC
Civilized mankind has a unique way,
To party and celebrate a most special day.
Potassium and sulfur, mixed with some coal,
Can reduce a mountain into the hill of a mole.
Gunpowder is thought to have China as a start,
Ceremonies commence, fireworks a part.
I always thought, it amusing to find,
Warfare and festival are two of a kind.
Powerful explosions that disable and destroy,
Have the ability to give the masses such joy.
Here we go, let the bash begin,
Guaranteed to give, your face a grin.
Let's add some luminosity to this summer blast,
Firecrackers and sparklers make the jubilee last.
Pinwheels are nailed safely to a tree,
Furiously twirls colors for all to see.
An aerial assault aloft, hear them roar,
Yellows and greens, in the air they will soar.
Flash flaming fluorescence, blue and red,
Envelop your eyes, dancing in your head.
See the trail of a missile, zipping in flight,
Shiny illuminations, all through the night.
On the ground at the end of a fireworks show,
Blazing stars and stripes, a flag created, watch it glow.
The fourth of July is America's time,
A birthday blowout, drinks with lemon and lime.
This frolicking is filled with food, family and fun,
Independence day, I wish it never was done.
Please visit poemsbypaul.com
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
The waitress sends signals in neon code,
through Christmas illuminations stretching across
the car-park, and straight into my ***** orange.
She laughs through awkward platitudes,
and all the beards that comment on her skirt.
She's working to make a living,
somewhere down the line.
I watch as she scribbles poetry on old receipts,
eyes glossing over the ketchup stains,
and into the passing of the moment.
I hope that she is writing of escape;
of better times and better sleep.
She will smash the glass ceiling,
and save us from the greenhouse effect.
Baritone singers lure her into art,
into the promise of soft-hearted men
with a resilient chest.
The waitress waits for a signal
to restart her life. There will be flares
on the horizon, there will be new lovers
leaning on their cars in the sun.
She will finally get to sit.
She will thank the waiter for her drink.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
in this city's jungle haze
the mortar shells bricked gallows' glaze
every pause for which a breath was shed
has returned now to this blankest page of night
the constant newborn night that wants your haloed angel dead
(above)
from the feline night returning
the baritone blues
stalk halo's yearning
every lissome hustler
knows the answer
cuz he's got it in his blood...
blowing silk cut smoke
before God's greatest flood
(below)
now sapped in amber's
wedded stasis
a knife edge wrought
keen for the basis
of a clean cut amputation
of ***** lustrous hesitation
(equals) (static)
in gutted hovels by the hour
archangels sing of
God's illuminations
and sweetest disavowal
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
I dreamed my own death,
last night:
dug down deep through
dirges and dingy old dirt
my bed and my tomb are
one and the same.
like a blanket the dirt piles above
and like a mattress the
dirt layers below.
it gets so tiring,
sometimes;
sleep is a cousin to death.
there are loved ones
sobbing far away and
others laid around me,
lost and caught among
the endless eddies and streams
of neverending loneliness
that we all have felt,
some time.
it is a common experience,
a collective, conscious thought--
we float up and out of our bodies,
our gases and our atoms mixing with the
dirt,
the mud,
the worms and
the bodies
and the
ever-lost matter
of countless others come before
and countless more come
after.
we are all living in order to die as
after our death there will be nothing added
and nothing left;
the base materials,
the elements and bits of star stuff
have always been
and always will be
even when they are not
us.
really,
it is the
accepting of our own
demise--
our ashes to ashes and
the plastering of the
dustiest of dusts
that shall settle
and lay on thick
in layers and levels of
lost and loopy illuminations
of a mind that is filled with holes and rot.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:33 PM UTC
you are the illuminated
manuscript
I, the reader
the lover
of you
show me your illuminations
your singing arabesques
the music
of you
chant your canticle
hidden in the golden calligraphy
wrapped
within you
open your pages
to me -- for
I am the reader
the lover
of you
c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 9:54 PM UTC
You have subconsciously immortalized yourself
On the ceiling of my room.
I didn’t know you, then.
We were just learning to hold hands and
Walk to the same rhythm and you didn’t know
How much my heart yearned for you.
You didn’t know that, then.
You bought me glow-in-the-dark stars
And we rushed home to stand precariously on the bed
Just for the sake of Orion’s Belt.
We turned out the lights and I showered you,
Sprinkling the tiny illuminations all over your soul.
We stargazed and cuddled close until our eyes
Started to gently close
And under the warmth of what must have been a thousand
Beams of light
I believe we began
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 7:17 PM UTC
The Clouded Sea
The sea lies flat setting just off shore a billowy cloud tenderly rests this sky voyager floats on the waves a misty guest
The two always complement each other one widely flows the other bestows willowy snow like scenes to enchant
The air stands between the swells and the moist over hanging shell set among azure blue once flight was the quest
The painter’s mind it does spark illuminations submerged in soulful wells truths transferred on canvas holds you in its spell
Who writes in the wind to the closest friends he sends these weighty thoughts stirred he will enclose them then disclose all
Yes the sea will tell of richness the boundless waves in their glorious spray will touch with magnificence this tribunal voice
Speaks every language has and knows the most dramatic utterances that blend with silence the soothing on the soul it falls
Text books widest roads it runs them all to their ends it investigates with tender’s breeze or with a squall it may favor a call
You sit among the cool frothing suds the sands grow no buds but oh what sights sea grasses grow amidst the dunes flume like
The gulls sail on the wind and delight with their aerial antics Pelicans fly in squadron formation seal and otter amuse and delight
The chill spreads inland, sweaters appear couples huddle close generating warmth cherished feelings rise ever as high as a kite
Smiles spread no Nordic blast can take away pleasure that is seated in oceanic sprawl the emotions deepen with the tide
The final pleasure you can’t ignore this chance to inter a cloud bank puffs of crystal standing two stories high float into the mist
Reach out swirl your hand in a circle make portholes turn slowly you are now engulfed in chiffon elegance a cumulus ball awaits
Step by step walk on moist softness feel the lightness as it springs then leaves delightful delicate prints only the unicorn will visit
The untraceable path through earthbound cloud at the sea shore for you it came to be just a puff of magic fluff for your embrace
Jan 1, 2012
Jan 1, 2012 at 8:48 PM UTC
The Clouded Sea
The sea lies flat setting just off shore a billowy cloud tenderly rests this sky voyager floats on the waves a misty guest
The two always complement each other one widely flows the other bestows willowy snow like scenes to enchant
The air stands between the swells and the moist over hanging shell set among azure blue once flight was the quest
The painter’s mind it does spark illuminations submerged in soulful wells truths transferred on canvas holds you in its spell
Who writes in the wind to the closest friends he sends these weighty thoughts stirred he will enclose them then disclose all
Yes the sea will tell of richness the boundless waves in their glorious spray will touch with magnificence this tribunal voice
Speaks every language has and knows the most dramatic utterances that blend with silence the soothing on the soul it falls
Text books widest roads it runs them all to their ends it investigates with tender’s breeze or with a squall it may favor a call
You sit among the cool frothing suds the sands grow no buds but oh what sights sea grasses grow amidst the dunes flume like
The gulls sail on the wind and delight with their aerial antics Pelicans fly in squadron formation seal and otter amuse and delight
The chill spreads inland, sweaters appear couples huddle close generating warmth cherished feelings rise ever as high as a kite
Smiles spread no Nordic blast can take away pleasure that is seated in oceanic sprawl the emotions deepen with the tide
The final pleasure you can’t ignore this chance to inter a cloud bank puffs of crystal standing two stories high float into the mist
Reach out swirl your hand in a circle make portholes turn slowly you are now engulfed in chiffon elegance a cumulus ball awaits
Step by step walk on moist softness feel the lightness as it springs then leaves delightful delicate prints only the unicorn will visit
The untraceable path through earthbound cloud at the sea shore for you it came to be just a puff of magic fluff for your embrace
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 12:00 AM UTC
Who is I?
In the Now. I am of true boi essence.
A writer, a recluse, abandoned only of fate: Destiny ever alluring in the palm of my hand.
Limited only by my own inabilty to be present in only one consciousness.
I am split between reality strings.
A permeant spectre, caught betwixt parallel dimensions.
At times incoherrant, lost in esoteric translation.
I am physic(al) - I of breath + flesh, perception being my holster, corruption my armoury.
Intuitively, i am harmonious, sanctonious, welcoming of illuminations and the darker side of each unfettered moon.
Awareness sleeps by my side. Each waking minute guarded. of commonality.
I am enlightened.
I am bouyant.
mobile, fluid-like in kinesis.
Conventional existense being the foundation over which i fly.
Arms outstretched, willing risk to be my pull.
Enticing Love to be my drag.
balance, mediums, equilibrium.
Lifted high amidst winds roaring with possibility.
I am stark in naked complication, although often prone to cover up in cynical, self critical analysis.
I am given of self; being the taker a refreshing discourse to which i stray accordingly.
Of culture i am a liar.
By nature i tend towards honesty only straying when survivalistic path need tread.
I am of blood,
private yet optimistically open to scarring.
By custom i am trained, civil, content.
Of instinct; native raw tongue, i am rampant, rapid in force, compelled to grow then emerge.
Only.
To submerge
is to take full scope.
i am telescopic
in view of A/all else to which i drown my vision.
I am unsure if i am young,
Although certain that my passage is still being lit by the glow of its entrance, dark passageways luring with their shadows and cavernous corners.
I am liberal, random in speculatory silence. I am idle, often motivated by industrial desire.
Mechanical in process, structured of cerebreal architecture, yet somewhat discombobulated in particularity.
Sporadic be my strain, its think tank choking always on the weeds of sorrow.
Essentially i am nothing: yet overwhelmingly everything.
I was
I am
I will
therefore i
Exist
to i as
A/all and nothing.
As yesterday is to tommorrow, and visa versa, i am a window, a door, a channel:
as closed as i am open.
Dependant only on my own deliverence of influence and potential.
Driven by the promise of future and the demands of my past.
I am a vehicle in time, my presence, my motion, my journey
is I.
Feb 9, 2010
Feb 9, 2010 at 2:13 AM UTC
A dim flame flickers,
as if it were dancing to a rhythm..
as if it were alive,
as if it was reflecting a life.
It fights with itself...
extinguish, breathe,
extinguish, breathe.
The light bounces off its surroundings,
Doing a tango with its shadow.
Light, darkness.
Good, evil.
Strength, weakness.
It casts demons on the wall,
It casts illuminations on the wall.
A light breath,
threatens its dance,
while the tiny wick
struggles to provide life.
A drop of oil,
fuels the glimmer,
while the air whirls by,
jeopardizing its fate.
A dim flame flickers,
bobs and weaves,
jumps and jives,
flashes and sparks.
A war between the elements,
Fire, air...
Air, fire.
Radiating beauty,
Providing a glimpse of hope and soul,
Chaotic and raw,
Wild and free,
Magnificent and untamed.
Embrace the dark and honor the shine,
Love the twilight and be engulfed in the magic.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
Our Dear
Mother
Father
God,
I am thankful for every blessing you send.
And have gifted us
throughout all the ages of our existence.
The present.
The past and the futures to come.
If I may
ask of you, please,
as you have touched my spirit,
let others see my souls illuminations.
A glowing of your infinitively divine
love and mercy.
Touch all things.
My brothers,
sisters,
the soil and growth,
the animals and trees.
All of us, together on this earth.
We all vibrate with your melody.
A techicolor sound.
Hums and wispers
of you.
I ask of one more thing,
if I may.
Spark curiosity of this glow that we have
deep within our souls.
Let others see the colors,
the light,
the joy and the peace.
The comfort.
Let it spread across the nation,
like the burning down and
building up of a new tomorrow.
I pray,
the fear in our hearts transends
into a journey,
an adventure
for truth.
That we may live as one.
One world.
One harmony.
One Humanity.
If I may,
a prayer for others.
Those who are lost.
Confused.
Broken.
Let us forgive those who need forgiven.
Help those who need help.
And love everything
as we love ourselves.
May all the asended
Masters,
Guides,
Teachers,
Travelers,
Marters,
Angels and Archangels
and every being that possess
your divine love and light,
join us on this journey.
Let us all sing one song,
hum one melody,
and whisper one name.
As we travel forth to worlds unseen and dimensions unknown,
as we journey along this earth,
exploring every beauty you have created
for us to discover.
A treasure hunt for the ages.
We love you
Mother
Father
God.
Namaste.
Blessed be.
Ashe.
Salaam.
Shalom.
Amen.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
To have two eyes as sharp as your tongue
is a gift. Two whale shaped almonds on
your unbearded canvas that you used to use
to sink ships and freeze rain.
Piercing circles need to be charged
by sleep and colby-jack, not dregs
of java and illuminations of the glowing apple
that you feast on, now.
Raging oceans blue and green
have been lulled by the sticky mucus
dams of sleepy-tears that you built
with your own body while your dreams sang:
*Farther, sail, further, boy
Look not back for fear is coy
Vaster, seek, faster, man
You must, oh, must reach the planned.*
Pencils and papers and screens and gin
have stilled your eyes and dried
them of all power,
Cyril,
In the staring glass you, search
for an oceans depth
all you find is a hollow skull,
bone dry, running wet only with blood.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 6:51 PM UTC
To survive
And sustain itself,
Life
Must eat life / in this physical plane
In our pains and stains
Everyday we feel
Our souls drained
Of chi’s otherness
Illuminations
Just “because” unforgivingly
We are warring
With our selves for goodness sakes
For love in life
Do not mistake
My kindness is not weak
Still Their’s needs please
Society’s Pleasantries
Wolf in sheep’s clothing
Thick skinned
To survive
That there
These here skids
The secret war’s
Begun
Forgive me for having been
Remiss
Asleep
Almost lost who now
I am or was
But beyond the human sufferings
Painful lack
Of
Beloved
Love
All as One
Light is
Mums the word.
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
Something
―for the children of the Holocaust and the Nakba
by Michael R. Burch
Something inescapable is lost—
lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight,
vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars
immeasurable and void.
Something uncapturable is gone—
gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn,
scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass
and remembrance.
Something unforgettable is past—
blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less,
which finality swept into a corner, where it lies
in dust and cobwebs and silence.
It was my honor and privilege to work with survivors of the Holocaust and Hiroshima on translations of their poems and accounts into English. What they have told us is unutterably sad, and saddest of all is hearing about the lives of children being full of horror and terror, only to be cut short. Unfortunately today Palestinian children in Gaza and the West Bank are experiencing something similar, a modern Trail of Tears ...
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 2:09 AM UTC
Of all the ways you've laid waist
to the Fortressess of Love I ***** in the realm of my emotions...
Of all the brittle limbs you send back crumbling on which once grew life I sent to you like pawns before me in this dry territory where the dust disturbs the view of the silvry illuminations in the sky...
Of all these things I've said, and the things I've not said...
At least, they let me know that you know I'm alive.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 3:31 AM UTC
I wasn't raised as a lady
with three brothers and a father to tie me down
and beat sense into my girlish mind.
But early illuminations
brought dark realizations-
as it seems a fool is favored.
Feathered eyelids and buttered cheeks
of these I knew nothing.
Clumsy drugstore purchases
to paint a face too young into beauty.
The type they want to look at.
Braces be gone!
Glasses, so long!
Sear these curls with an iron!
So there, cursed mirror of murmurs!
The type they want to look at!
Nay!
He says that's not enough.
And who am I to stop his hand
spidering up my skirt.
This is it.
The type they want to touch.
Wash your face off
and all the scents and spots
of whoever he was.
Some are too deep,
it seems they have seeped.
*The type they want to ****
You'll ruin your sheets
if you cry like that-
motherless infant.
You cannot always need,
you'll be the type they want to leave.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 1:23 AM UTC
I witness the carnivalesque dance of illusion
the self conscious telling of a familiar story
a darkening tone, the synthesing
of incompatible perspectives
that cause an incandescent agony
of self-inflicted wounds
caused by the somatizing of events by others
but leads to epiphanic illuminations
the transformative energies of disintigration
where all the beauty that is inherent in the ordinary
becomes clear
everthing lights up with the glow
of the quantum expansion of great silences
and I can retrieve from the unconcious
something I know but have forgotten
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 4:48 PM UTC
Shades of violet clouds glide magically through the skyline,
Being still for a moment only,
Comb-liked precious yellow rays display themselves gloriously peeking only hints of green illuminations,
Below, the vast lake reflects it's beauty where light falls and hides,
Scattered, the silhouetted trees wait for dawn to greet them
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC