Tribute to Robert Bridges

Robert Bridges
1844-1930 poet and physician

The upper skies are palest blue.
Mottled with pearl and fretted snow
With tattered fleece of inky hue,
close overhead the storm clouds go.

A glosa

The upper skies are palest blue,
the opposite of indigo.
And yet they share a common hue
as any artist’s sure to know.

The faintest cerulean blue
mottled with pearl and fretted snow.
Forever old yet always new
it changes constantly but slow.

AS frightened sheep so often do
across the sky they scatter so.
With tattered fleece of inky hue
on driven by the winds that blow

We are aware a storm is due.
Exactly when we cannot know,
we only know within our view
Close overhead the storm clouds go.

13-Sep-08

http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!