My brush is a bird
that paints in red
loquacious and free
stroke by stroke
color comes out
captivating me
the dancing rain
on my fingertips
flick of my wrist
of secrets born
passions chiseled
in precious stone
©AvdL 2015
Edited
Consider this site as a buffet about life, literature, love, work, film, and fun! Grab the BIG plate and dig in!
The only journey is the journey within.
it only took 37 years
I throw these words to the wind. Feel free to grasp them or let them drift away.
. . . seek a quiet haiku pond
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Just another WordPress.com weblog
A self-proclaimed (recovering) procrastinator's blog on his writing journey. CARPE DIEM!
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