Morphed Heart Of Art
Dawn lifts onyx shroud
from sky clear of cloud,
from dome’s color crowd
spread hued specks in air.
Garden glows in flare,
dew shines pearly glow
on olive meadow,
scene of dreamy show.
Spurts of yearning start,
carves urge in my heart,
morphing to fond art.
My muse soars sky-high
on lilt wings to fly
beguiled in your sky.
My enticed songs there,
I sing in tunes rare.
|