(painting by Paul Klee)
Color of lemon, mango, peach,
These storybook villas
Still dream behind
Shutters, their balconies
Fine as handmade lace,
Or a leaf-and-flower pen-sketch.
Tilting with the winds,
On arrowy stems,
Pineapple-barked,
A green crescent of palms
Sends up its forked
Firework of fronds.
A quartz-clear dawn
Inch by bright inch
Gilds all our Avenue,
And out of the blue drench
Of Angels' Bay
Rises the round red watermelon sun ( poem by Sylvia Plath)
Thursday, 8 November 2007
Southern Gardens
Posted by nightowl at 10:20
Labels: art poetry
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2 comments:
Lovely :)
I often forget about Sylvia Plath. Love the painting as well - such lovely rich ambers and oranges.
This isn't the sort of writing I'd always associated with Sylvia Plath, I can really relate to this. I love that last line - the red watermelon sun.
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