Daniel Clarke Art

The bougainvillea wears your fragrance the scent a silent comfort in my often quiet days I enjoy our conversation while the magenta of its leaves paints a beautiful picture ...

A BOAT beneath a sunny sky, Lingering onward dreamily In an evening of July -- Children three that nestle near, Eager eye and willing ear, Pleased a simple tale to hear -- Long...

The majestic summit ascends like a shimmering twilight as misty cumulus clouds fade away behind the incandescent, crimson, golden sun. Ice-cold, frosty snow envelops the brown-co...

Half Moon Bay I believe in the shadows of birds, wings Full of dark angel, feathered arms Gliding for beach. This is a movie, The wings are frames ...

Dawn in the orange grove Golden beehive, bee's seeking honey, Where? In the blue flower, in the rosemary flower Where his love resides. He parts his ...

The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in ...

It’s as if each atrium of my heart has been lassoed And hooked To the corners of this room A room described as endless and beautiful and indecisive But a room that will tug unt...

Radiant purple gospel red and bold yellow tulips picture frames of beauty adorn the grassy hills of Tuscany and What ever becomes of this love parade are the fancy white and ...

Laguna Beach longing Laguna Beach, I’m longing for highways that fade to sandy sidewalks and sunlight pouring down like golden rain in metallic hues of bronze and copper on skin softened by seabreeze and saltwater waves edged with lace-fine foam and artists who capture it all hanging above time-worn leather or galleries with auras of glass prisms and silver chrome vignettes of gas stations and traffic and crowded oceanside scenes suspended in time a sugar cone heaped with lemony gelato made salty sweet with Johnny Rocket’s fries a girl’s chlorine-bleached butternut macadamia hair dripping in coconut oils and pure light saturated pastel skies raked with spiderwebbing branches and stormed through with eucalyptus leaves she’s artlessly hanging of trees and becomes breathless smiles and bruised knees and one of those artists is brushing gold on plexiglass and she stands, coral pink flecked...