Monday, 7 February 2011

Sepia Love








Some days I can smell
The rich oaken scent
Before the ink pot is even opened;
While pens and brushes are singing
For a pair of hands,
A gentle eye.

It always makes me tremble
To see the beauty
In one strong line
Etchings into paper

Space within space
Forms rising from nothingness…

I am overcome.

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