Scarlet are the forest teeth
At restless summer dawn,
When sky and earth each other kiss
And dreams are nearly gone.
Mint are the chilly august morns
Who slide their fingertips
Under the collars of our shirts
For frisky childish tricks.
White is glitter of the day
Under the warming sun.
World is the stage on which we play
Until the script is done.
Honey are the windows' lights
Foretaste of end-day joys.
They pierce the black of sleepy nights
And start the endless ploys.
Сolor palette of a summer day
© Copyright: Тимофей Звучный, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121082105602
Свидетельство о публикации №121082105602
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