thursday...................................................

Memoir of a smile

Light, blurred and pregnant in the sky
Mixed with a paint brush by evening’s artistic talent.
Soft swollen rose stretched on tip-toe towards heavens glow.
Petals outstretched, spun silk, gilded.
Blue prints lost, stolen by crow’s greedy beak.
Black stormy winds blew, tempest quake.
Petals scattered to the wind.
But the artisan’s guild found the blueprint
And returned it to canvas, eternally.