Tag Archives: Paintings

Alone At The Park

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Harlequin groves

Cast back on the puddle

The hues of happiness.

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Hush of the night

Stirred by a languid breeze

Sending in some tranquil waves.

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The cold stone bench

And some far away looks

The bliss of solitude.

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The Choice and Destiny

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There he is! at the crux…

Taking pride at his freedom of choice

Poor fella, he does not discern his courses are pent

He knows not of ones beyond his purview

There he is! on the fence…

Contemplating his pick

Left to mull over, which door to open after the next

There he is! between the devil and the deep blue sea..

Hoping to get to the Zion

He presumes his doom is the blend of his path

He sees not it’s a pit, a rabbit hole, offering no way back.

There he is! over the moon…

Revering his leeway, glad to take the onus

The choice is his!