The Skin of My Land

The skin of my land is alive with

the colors

of soils of the springtime

and amber of skies.

The ambers of dawn in a crystal blue heaven,

the amber of embers when bright sunlight dies.

The skin of my land is the color of wheat grass

that dances in winds that make soft summer sighs.

The skin of my land is the red of the clay that the summer storm

makes when we say our goodbyes.

The skin of my land is the

floor of the ocean,

the whitest of clouds,

and the blackest of nights.

The skin of my land is a melanin melody.

Blessed the beholders of such divine sights.

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Author: smithaw50

I live in NJ. Concentrating now on a getting a full time writing career started. Glad you could be with me on the journey. Ready? Here we go...

6 thoughts on “The Skin of My Land”

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