7 Comments

Mood Gorning

The warm light of day and life anew steadily crept past the gentle fabric of hand-woven drapes. Delicate silk sprouts of blossoming pink flowers and light green pedals occupied the transparent majesty of subtle beauty, often misinterpreted and grasped by grant. Inch by figurine inch, lucidity oozed from the deafening marble, a puncturing blush of blinding yellow that swam in an abstract yet endless lake above our heads – the sun. It poured its molten glass with gradual precision, morning to the mourning, through the articulate vines, those of which are suspended from mass-produced bends of solidified grains of Mother Earth’s contents.

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7 comments on “Mood Gorning

  1. have i mentioned your writing rocks?! 😉

  2. deafening marble – lovely wordplay again from your good self – Diane

  3. Hi
    Eddie

    I’m happy to see

    yor xprexion

    fyl mure thaugn reed

    ier spiryt frie

    Glad to see you being free

    with luv

    tomas

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