Red Dark Delight

It's not fair...

you came out while
I wasn't there,

So Red!

clouds a dark cherry colour,

I tried to snap some,
but it still wouldn't do...

night slipped on his
polished black shoes,

And the woman on the Viaduct,
said -

'what a night for photographs! '

Sorry, surely I can at least,
write about my hopeless effort,

Every single crappy snap, Shwack!

I'll give you Mother Earth,
for the Red sun got rolled away,
and there I was trying to follow

straight up Rosemount and further still,

for it was hovering and plummeting
behind granite balustrades & rooftops,

C'mon this is not enough,
I want William Blake now,

enough to illuminate what it is
I'm trying to find...

Red Sky at Night,
your shepherd cries among red neon,
and cars,

gets more lost...
in his sleep deprivation,
is trying to catch something -
until the bubble - pops!

everything from here,
disappears into blackness,
of busified streets & shops,

for it is over -
and only the mind itself,
is left with all that red to deal with!

User Rating: 4,8 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 2

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Comments (2)

This happened to me. Sometimes the cloudscape is so exquisitely detailed, it seems possible to embark on a journey just savoring that beauty. But before the journey gets well underway, those cloud-capped towers melt away like icing on a cake in the rain. NIGHT SLIPS ON HIS /POLISHED BLACK SHOES, like a special agent bent on stamping out beauty.
A red horizon's delight indeed. Impressive brilliant poem, accept my high votes too. And do pls review my latest poem