Burnt Red Poem by James Tipp
Burnt Red
Like the open doors of a celestial furnace the day ends
This summer heat has poured down upon us incessantly
Now at the close the sun dips with a fanfare of such beauty
The silhouetted trees give shape to the burnt red colouring
Frame it in context of this skyline ofexquisite beauty.
So ends the day, but the coolness is not felt or expected.
(c)J Tipp 03/08/18
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 3:36:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A nice poem, Tipp. Read my poem Love and L u s t. Thanks