THE EGGA Poem by E.P. RoblesTHE EGG In the quiet cradle of the morning sun, A humble egg, by dawn's grace begun. Pablo's brush, in colors bold and bright, Dances with words, a poet's gentle light. Ode to the egg, a canvas pristine, A vessel of life, a mystery unseen. In Picasso's hands, angles and curves, A symphony of shapes, a creation that serves. A fragile orb, in the artist's gaze, A metaphor for life, in myriad ways. Shell, a fortress, guarded and strong, Yet within, a universe waiting to belong. Ethereal strokes, a poet's inked refrain, Capturing the essence, the joy and pain. Noble laureate's words, a lyrical dance, An ode to the egg, a timeless romance. Picasso's vision, a fractured delight, Breaking barriers, revealing the light. Nobel laureate's verses, a delicate weave, Celebrating life that the egg does conceive. In the quiet cradle of the morning's birth, A collaboration, a masterpiece of worth. Egg, a symbol, profound and pure, In the hands of genius, an everlasting allure. :: 11.11.2023 :: © 2023 E.P. RoblesAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on November 14, 2023 Last Updated on November 14, 2023 Tags: #Egg, #discovery, #poetry, #words, #love AuthorE.P. RoblesSAN ANTONIO, TXAboutI write a lot and I paint a lot. I think just enough that I believe I am a very crazy person at all times. I am very friendly to a fault and find life very very short. I write in bursts with each p.. more..Writing
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