
I will not tread upon your words
Whose worth is in these hills and lakes
Where golden flowers charmed the breeze
That carried you to greatness
➰
But armed with eyes of fingered glass
Which sense and frame intensity
I reach into the now of gold
To capture black’s propensity
➰
To frame in light what lies beyond
And host a soul that only
Reveals, concealed, the single light
Of daffodil that conquers lonely
➰
©Stephen Tanham



























Beautiful!
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So pretty, and lovely picture to go with!
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Lovely poem and picture
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Thank you, Sue x
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