a velvet feather…
and with both too little hands
I scoop my art and blue belles-lettres
from the scintillating eversands of time…
just some jewels for a viewer
to behold and to remember…
birds of paradise, a whisperword
of love, of light, of peace…
a praying Aprilbreeze to thrill
the strings of ice harps in December
and an avalanche of euphemistic rhyme…
my flying spirit can’t accept
the ways of war, of hate, of torture
so I snow my coloured silence o’er the world…
painted roses, tender verses
gently curled around humanity’s distress…
never could my smiling soul be doing less...
so I’m brushing city-shadows
full of friendly hushing graffiti…
free images to mask all mindlessness…
a blushing child, a charm, a song
a long forgotten fairy-tale…
a silver chanting nightingale
a jukebox playing psalms, a velvet feather
one that calms the aching heart…
and with both too little hands
I scoop my poetry & art from musing streams
maybe artlessly creating worthy dreams…
© Drs. Rikki Keller
