The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-W.Shakespeare

Thursday 6 February 2014

Soul of the Sol

Set with a moving
     painting in the sky,
     white canvas with
     endless borders blue.
     Apollo’s Picasso in the cloud.
          Atlas smoking
          pomegranate puffs.
-don’t mention the lighter
that ends the world,
     He may take it
     as his paintbrush
     for his final master piece.
Same old Sun set, 
yet lights anew for few
-don’t fear the dying sun

Look to fire in the sky,
Kindling for the Artist’s eye.

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