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_randomstories october 30 2019| random stories & poetry
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Every time I look at the dusking sky the shadowing blues

paintbrush 🖌

Every time I look at the dusking sky

the shadowing blues

the vibrant pinks,

just a hint of amber

with darkening clouds on the brink,

the interlacing colours

are reflected in the iris of my eye,

and I feel the warmth of the sinking sun

below the horizon, a vision shy.

And looking at the endless canvas of colour,

I feel all is possible.

No place is too far

No sky too high,

No ocean too wide

to cross in the blink of an eye.

And no way I couldn't just reach up

to dip my fingers in the bright opal palette

and paint all the lurking, ominous greys away.

Kiss them goodbye.

But as the iminenet darkness creeps in

clouding the fading rays,

I drift off

with dry paint on my fingertips,

my thoughts in a haze.

And I dream.

I dream of possibilities.

Unbridled, erratic possibilities.

I dream of shadowing blues

and vibrant pinks,

just a hint of amber

with darkening clouds on the brink.

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