Poetic Interlude LVIII

Yet another guest post by my father, Gentle Reader.

I sat on a moss-covered rock
in a high mountain meadow.
Realizing the joy the father must have felt as
He gave His creation the gift of color.
The ebony wings of a raven in flight,
The white breast of a magpie
showing briefly through a willow.
The green grass waving gently,
among the wildflowers in bloom.
He finished the world
like a painter from His palette,
daubing soft pastels among vibrant hues.
Every shade uniquely different.
Each brushstroke lovingly applied.
The soft red petals of a rose contrasting the
rich yellow of a daffodil,
growing and thriving in the same common soil.
All the colors merging and blending
into His glorious vision.
I wonder when His people will do as well.

©2014 by Tyler J. Yoder. All rights reserved

About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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