Tag Archives: sky

Breakfast

Today I’ve arranged to breakfast with the sky
we haven’t been talking much lately and
so need some alone time together
in her lovely blue halls cushioned with fluffy cumuli
although blue is probably not her best colour
at breakfast, she’s more into yellow and rose.
Trouble is, she gets up so early and those of us who
don’t need to rise for work tend to sleep in….

I wonder if that’s why she’s been so distant to me?

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Watercolour Sky

The image is built  in a series of layers
First, a pale blue wash across the sky
Then, broad brush strokes of pale icy cirrus
With pen details of contrails crossing At the midpoint
Broken colours of cumulus, grays dark and light
Inky smudges along the horizon
All above a darkened landscape
Washes of Greens
Inked in hedges
Occasional highlights
Painting left unsigned

 

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Reblogged from 2016

 

Solar Flares

I do like poems with an Astronomical bent, and here’s a wonderful one from Paul F. Lenzi:

Poesy plus Polemics

SolorFlare “Solar Flare” by Dan Oliver

particle storms

shriek at inhuman

inaudible frequency

penetrate matter

lase holes through

the bones of minds

living and dead

mark acutely

the genomes of

all cosmic creatures

yet to be born

with the warning

that even the sun

is disposed to

explosions of rage

From my books Pieces of Wine and Legacies (vol.2)

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EOS

I would like to share this wonderful poem by Louis Faber with you:

an old writer and his words

Tomorrow the morning
will arrive as it always does,
eating the last vestiges
of night, painting the sky
in puce and crimson.
It will foretell the rain
that will carry our dreams
down the hill
and into storm sewers,
eventually to wash into the lake.
But in that moment
when the sky is ablaze,
none of that matters,
save the beauty of dawn.

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The Overwhelming Sky

The overwhelming sky enthralls me
Shows me its magic, fills me with glory
Layers of stratus, piles of towering cumulus
Cirrus lacing glazes overtop
Neon pink icy scribbling on an evening horizon
Fireworks sunsets, pale sleepy dawns
Reds, yellows, purples, greens overwrite the blue and black
Gauguin, Picasso, Rothko must have felt this
The Starry Night is truth, no wonder Vincent suffered so
Genghis rode under this dome that encompasses all of our lives
Did its pressure drive him to the cities for refuge rather than plunder?

The overwhelming sky appears to have no end
Although I know that it is but the skin on the planet apple
It bears down on me, it conquers me
Filling me up with its immensity
Until I spill this burden of  words
To offer them as sacrificial token
To try to explain this hold
To bid to exorcise it
To seek release
But
It is the master of me

 

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

First published on Your One Phone Call earlier this year . Part of a series of poems about the sky, others are Open Sky and Evening Star.