eerily, the thick darkness melds into brilliant light, blending truth and doubt in lines painted wide.
Tag: Nature
White Nights and Pale Days
A simple poetry attempt after a while.
Rest In Peace | Free Verse
We connected strongly over our love of travel; captured in films and preserved in memory; rose gardens, green meadows, fluorescent seas - the many aromas of a lively summer floating with the breeze.
A body I borrowed
A phantom in cold flesh and blood - this frail body, a stranger to my soul; thousand feet under a bottomless void, there is no remedy to make me whole.
The Perfect Leaf | Poetry
I keep an eye out for the perfect leaf among the gilded ground; nature’s raiment, worn to perfection, radiates beauty all around.
Saxony’s Secret: The Devil’s Bridge and medieval towns
I am of the strong opinion that whosoever claims the Rakotzbrücke, also known as the devils' bridge, to be an overhyped tourist attracted is either lying or was simply unlucky with the weather. In the worst possible scenario, they were met with some construction work, in which case, I can sympathize and understand their frustration.… Continue reading Saxony’s Secret: The Devil’s Bridge and medieval towns
Summer Rain | Poetry
The weather-beaten trees leaned over, earthy scents rose from the ground; we confessed our love for summer rain - the flourishing green 'n' tinkling sound.
Moon Magic
When the evening sky is stained with red, and the sun disappears behind the clouds, drawing her chariot across the eastern sky glints an opaque moon in a pearly shroud.
The Little Star Thief
Stars, low light, frail kindly light pinned to the dark fabric of the night embroidered with yarns of silvery thread in celestial patterns twinkling o'erhead. Some playful fingers set them stray, each loosened star drifts miles away; white streaks of light flare up and 'round, bright glinting stars come falling down. I wonder wherein lie… Continue reading The Little Star Thief
Amber Love | Autumn Poetry
Creator: Adam Oehler Stepping on a small wooden boat rowing circles with two small hands; swirling and swashing drowsy waters, I glided past the autumnal lands. The white sun was wry and mellow; the blue river looked darker now; the stillness was often deafening - broken by crackling of the boughs. I reached the vivid… Continue reading Amber Love | Autumn Poetry
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