Wednesday, March 11, 2009


Painting and Verse by Abe V Rotor

A piece of rock,
a patch of green
the mountains mock;

A waterfall
by thunderstorm
in summer dies;

Memories old
on benches live
in sun and rain;

Waves rush and die
against a cliff
or plain shore;

Breeze passing by
bids in its sound
of rustling leaves;

Without the chill,
and sound of sea
the shore is still.

x x x


justine claire said...

mhmmmhmhmhm.. amazingly catching.. when i read this i really felt emptiness inside... the feeling was heavy..

robielyn said...

..haay sir your painting makes me lonely and feeling empty by reading those passages.

karla narito said...

if you'll look at the painting with just a second it looks plain, but when you stare at it for a long time you'll feel the essence and message of the painting..