Brighton is consistent mist
but suddenly comes afternoon
trailing quilts of sunshine bliss
open the downs;
discard the doom
If I, with oil could paint those fields
gold and black, noble depth
yet I spectate
and carve with thoughts
these wild free spaces
spurring, gilded, playground of a thousand races
Find truth in gazing from up high,
the solace,splendour set the tone
the heart of those deep woods instills
a calming wonder
of it's own
I wonder then as light fantastic
trips it's patterns
on the plain
how long dear birds will fly so freely
angels cramped by grey terrain
Still I long to be that seagull
swooping wise,no jealous restraint
circling keepers of this kingdom
perfect,skybourne
es(capers) of hate
This provokes me then
and hardens my will
to live in a rough house
resplendent on a hill
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Submission Name: eye bath
