Day 17
Prompt: swing poem
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the strings of early autumn rain
stream through my veins and I often
dream that I´m falling leaves, I ride
the swings and slides of wasted time
that sling me higher and apart
I lose the roots of long reaped past
my youth is waltzing to its dusk
with the relentlessness of age
withering pieces of my heart
refuse to settle on the ground
On the edge of
the sylvan woodland a dryad calls down the autumn leaves. My homage to
the beautiful colours of autumn and dedicated to the memory of "The
Emporer", Britain's largest stag taken down during the rutting season by
a poacher this autumn.
Painted entirely in Corel Painter using one acrylic brush and one blender.
Prompt: swing poem
*********************************************************************************
Changing Seasons
the strings of early autumn rain
stream through my veins and I often
dream that I´m falling leaves, I ride
the swings and slides of wasted time
that sling me higher and apart
I lose the roots of long reaped past
my youth is waltzing to its dusk
with the relentlessness of age
withering pieces of my heart
refuse to settle on the ground
Painted entirely in Corel Painter using one acrylic brush and one blender.
by Martin Eager
http://www.digital-art-gallery.com/picture/9121
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