Thursday, September 22, 2011

when colour goes home



when colour goes home into the eyes,
and lights that shine are shut again
with dancing girls and sweet birds’ cries
behind the gateways of the brain;
and that no-place which gave them birth, shall close
the rainbow and the rose

still may time hold some golden space
where i’ll unpack that scented store
of song and flower and sky and face,
and count, and touch, and turn them o’er,
musing upon them; as a mother, who
has watched her children all the rich day through
sits, quiet-handed, in the fading light,
when children sleep, ere night.



6 comments:

ellen abbott said...

Love that last photo for some reason.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Ah - one of my favourites Steven.

steven said...

ellen it blew off a deck planter and stuck to the wood . . . the light was fading. steven

steven said...

weaver - mine also!!! it came to mind with the equinox arriving in a nother day. steven

erin said...

perfection with that last shot just after the poem!

xo
erin

Liza Ursu said...

I am overcome steven.
"and that no-place which gave them birth, shall close
the rainbow and the rose"
that second pic is special steven, it is TREASURE!