SKETCHES: Sketches of lost words in yesterday

Art is an illusion and can be whatever you want it to be….Sketches are my backbone,both in words and action.

Pencil expresses what pen cannot find in words…..

So here I lay,eyes to the ceiling,

Lost in the day,like winters hay

Do we even have winter?

But I hear my heartbeat grow fainter

As words escape my mind

So my hands don’t lag behind

As fingers come in sync with pencil

To do a sketch without a bushel

And lamp aboard to crack the nutshell

Of sorrows lying behind the bunsen

Burner of light within the dark

Gloomy room of lost treads

So may I find peace where words break in to piece

I mean pieces of lost Yesterdays

As I can only hold onto Today.

PePa.

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