Fields of Green
A continent of purest blue begins to flow, an unstoppable force That spills towards the sea in cinematic slow motion. Pristine shades of sapphires that
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
A continent of purest blue begins to flow, an unstoppable force That spills towards the sea in cinematic slow motion. Pristine shades of sapphires that
You slide fluently through cool, coastal waters, A balletic grace with unparalleled force That silently slips between the spheres As a distant rumble announces time.
A dynasty of diamonds in the sky, You stretch beyond the hemispheres of sight Scattering stardust like lavish silt as Unseen tidal forces conspire to
An incendiary flash of colour – Your violent hues scatter the scrub; We watch as you forage for food, Using your casque like a fork.