 |
Mountains at Saint-Rémy (Montagnes à Saint-Rémy)Vincent Van GoghLife is full of rolling hills Each step of desperation Life is full of rolling hills The sky a shade of melancholic blue Perhaps, we’re all just a work of art Written for whatsgoingon & written for desperate poets Thank you for reading |
A poetic blog to entertain my inner muse and express the ramblings of my heart. " I Choose the Frequency of Love"
Thursday, October 5, 2023
Rolling with the Hills
Labels:
beauty,
desperation,
Van Gogh
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Hi Truedessa - this is delightful ... so appropriate for today - I do wonder what we are ... love the image together with the words ... Miss Understood - so clever ... cheers Hilary
ReplyDeleteThank you Hilary, sometimes I feel misunderstood…
DeleteThat last part is just perfect.
ReplyDeleteThank you Alex, perhaps its the imperfections that made it perfect.
DeleteThis is lovely, Truedessa. The mountain is hard to climb indeed. We may never reach the top but just keep climbing. I like how you highlight that we are all part of creation, and the conclusion makes such a valid and valuable point! So glad to see you.
ReplyDeleteMary, thank you for your kind comment. It is nice to have another poetry community. Appreciate what you ladies are doing.
Delete"you gave me a mountain, what am I to do
ReplyDeleteshine some rays of light to see me through"...How I love the lines! Such a delightful poem!
Thank you Sumana, a little light can go far
Delete"Shine some rays of light to see me through." What a beautiful poem. It gets tiring, climbing. Yet it's the only way to get there. I love this poem, True.
ReplyDeleteThank you my friend. The climb can be exhausting but, it's the only way to reach the summit.
DeleteLove the rhyming in this, it just trips along! JIM
ReplyDeleteI met someone at university, oh so many decades ago, who declared he was going to live his life, as a work of art. perhaps he succeeded. perhaps we might, still ~
ReplyDeleteLove this, especially that third stanza, and the ending. Here, as in Vincent's painting, mountains are so much more than just elevated rock--they're alive with beauty, waiting for us to uncover.
ReplyDeleteI like your poem stuffed with so many rhyming words. Life is like that.
ReplyDeleteannell SomethingsIThinkAbout-annell
Great way to see beauty as it is given.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post
ReplyDeleteNicely done. Love the melancholic blue.
ReplyDeleteSandra sandracox.blogspot.com