Others sleep in the curving
Corner of velvet farm,
Their colors I wonder is
Not of perfect white?
Theirs’ are sleeping colors
Then, sheep started to feast
On velvet and changing grass,
They stop, and eat and gently hop;
Till the farm in blowing wind concealed.
All these innocent puffy sheep ate
The changing velvet grass;
Through blowing wind,
Herded happily changing,
To sleep in the edge
of the velvet farmland.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elmot is the prolific and dynamic writer behind three blogs namely:
He is a jovial and cheerful soul, you’d be surprised to find out that he discusses serious socio-economic problems and concerns in his blog.
Read his latest post on the May 2010 Election Concerns: An Online Interview with Mr. James Jimenez
“My Blog is my alter-ego, the online me: where I share some of my rants, senseless commentaries on everything I see, hear and smell…” he says this of his blog.
He is also an incredibly versatile poet who could shift easily from composing an erotic poem to a pristine, virginal poem like this one.
Thanks Elmot for accepting my invitation for a guest post, and for this refreshing and invigorating poem.
Photo by Tumble Fish Studio