Of sleepless nights ...
And it is dark, I hear her feet no more.
A red moon leers beyond the lily-tank.
A drunken moon ogling a sycamore,
Running long fingers down its shining flank.
A lurching moon, as nimble as a clown,
Cuddling the flowers and trees which burn like glass.
Red, kissing lips, I feel you … (read more)
And it is dark, I hear her feet no more.
A red moon leers beyond the lily-tank.
A drunken moon ogling a sycamore,
Running long fingers down its shining flank.
A lurching moon, as nimble as a clown,
Cuddling the flowers and trees which burn like glass.
Red, kissing lips, I feel you on my gown—
Kiss me, red lips, and then pass—pass.
Music, you are pitiless to-night.
And I so old, so cold, so languorously white.
~ Excerpt from "Nuit Blanche" by Amy Lowell
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- 1478 x 2688 px, JPEG (523.4 KB)
- This is a signed and limited edition digital creation. What does this mean?
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Comments
Very elegant and beautiful!
Thank you Dan !
it´s amazing, congrats artist!
Thank you Gala !
magical :)
Thanks Greta !
So beautiful!
Thank you Gera!!
Beautiful poetic and musical piece ~ As if the sounds she plays can still be heard in the silence of her absence. ♥︎♥︎⚖️♥︎♥︎
Thank you Ally . An ode to all those nights that I cant sleep :)