COLORS, LIGHT, ACTION
A more perfect picture there cannot be.
Bright colors as far as the eye could see.
Blue, yellow, red, orange, purple and green.
A frame is needed for this gorgeous scene.
If I could walk into this masterpiece,
My life would be so calming and at peace.
A MAGICAL NIGHT
It is a magical night for a party.
Beautiful couples dance
between the glass statues.
Fancy gowns draped
on perfect bodies.
The party at the glasshouse is perfect.
Maybe a little too perfect.
THE DEAD GAME
Japanese Gardens – Portland, OR
The stream flows
across rocks,
reflecting the sun’s rays
along its smooth surface.
Follow the blue lights downstream.
Dip your toes into the cold splendor.
Life can be perfect.
How would paradise
appear to you?
A house standing in calm water.
The scent of flowers in the air.
People strolling the clean streets.
No need to hurry.
Warm breezes.
Sun shining.
Birds chirping.
Perfect.
The mask has cracked.
I can’t keep it together.
A fight to be perfect.
A battle to be accepted.
The mask has cracked.
The game is over.
Portovenere, Italy ~ Luca Libralato
Brush strokes of blue and gray
to fill in the puffy clouds.
Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine
to meet the neverending horizon.
Each wave swell of purest white
rises from the depths of dark blue.
My fingers reach for the canvas.
My eyes travel to the brushes.
I shake my head.
No painting is needed.
No copy will diminish the essence
of a perfect summer day at the shore.
A perfect place for me.
Books as far as you can see.
Covering the tall walls.
Even lining the halls.
Stories for me to read.
Nothing more I would need.
A bed of flower.
A fragrant power.
Petals in my face.
Such a perfect place.
I’ll soon be asleep.
So don’t make a peep.
OASIS
A more beautiful place cannot be.
It faces the waves of the dark sea.
Kindle
http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP
Nook
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj
A perfect oasis where dreams come true.
Palm trees wave their arms in the warm breeze.
Birds sing a happy tune above the blue.
Until the night exhales its cold breath.
Torrents of wind dig through the white sand.
Where dark shadows leave no footprints.
And tourists remain innocent no more.
THE DEAD GAME
SUSANNE LEIST 