Blue light scatters when it hits the air.
It becomes your eyes, the sky, the sea.
It breaks away. The particles drift free.
Waves rise where no other colors dare.
Sense abandoned for traquility,
Blue light scatters when it hits the air,
A vivid distortion of reality.
Blue light masks what is not there.
In fractered pools of philosophy,
It becomes what you would have it be.
Blue light scatters when it hits the air.
Very nice. And probably the most original "B" I've seen today.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful! I agree with L.G....one of the most creative A-Z entries ever.
ReplyDeleteFractured pools of philosophy/ a vivid distortion of reality - wow!
ReplyDeleteI love your Blue Light poem.
i wanted to snap my fingers for you in a hip cafe! happy b day =)
ReplyDeleteLovely poem.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from a fellow fantasy writer, lover of myth and medieval history, and new follower!