Gaze at Calypso
With bristles of brushes coloured in gold
I'm the lady standing at the end of the ocean
The one in whom they call
Calypso
I am mother to a thousand and god mother to ten thousand
I breathe the growth of Amazonian warriors
In the depth of the ocean floors where there is gravity but no motion
no flaws nor commotion
I paint live unto sticks am i the one
you seek?
Who is the lady with magical paintings
With bristles of brushes coloured in gold
I am the keeper of the colour of the northern gates, the one who birthed the first diamond with my brush and inkä(ink) i created the first born moon, am i the one
you seek?
Who is this lady with magical paintings with
Bristles as sparkles of rainbow in tiny lights as bright as a shooting star
her art depicts the thought of the only flock that saw
is seeing, and ever sees
the mother confessor
Journeying in the wilderness of too many thoughts, some are wild some are clout
Some are cold some are closed
is any ever clearer than the farry tarry
crystal ball of Calypso?
Only the lady with magical paintings gliding on the silver lining of the moons ring over thousand and tens of thousands of waves of emotion, spiraling in a whirlwind of ideology and imagination.
Original Poem by : @mistakili
Beautiful flows! Very calm and yet very deep.
#bigwaves
Thank you so much, sometimes i think my poetry only makes sense to me
Wow this is beautiful.
Waw this is great. I like the writers perspective. Its deep and your used of words excellent. I think ill come learn under you
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