Capturing imagination, enticing it's ambitions into the
brilliance of interior spheres, a ringing blended with
the chemistry of attitudes, clicking automatically with
artistic abilities.
Twisting, turning into fields of snow white lilies which
in reality are the white designs of snowflakes falling
straight from heaven above, into thoughts I'm thinking
and into this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! Roseann. This is even better than your last one with the intertwining of shape and colour and a beautifully mazy rhythm whin spins through the poem delightfully. If I read a better poem today, I'll let you know! Tom Billsborough. Er can we give her a 20, PH?