Contemplating matter
myriad of light
a mind is like Picasso
no straight line guiding sight
of all the things imagined
through life and sight within
the dreams through daytime wander
like a longest walk in spring
the white of light, the black of shadow
between, the constant grey of conscience
untidy mind with lack of colour
a masquerade of knowledge
filtered sounds and sights unseen
frustration plays its hand
we bluff through our existence
because we never understand
Silver Tongue20Eleven
(Geoffrey Brett © Copyright)
