Painter of poetry,
please paint me a poem,
Hue words for my
soul to find its way home,
Old odes daubed in
pinks & cyan blue skies,
Paint away tears
from the little child´s eyes.
Wash whispers of
breezes in soft summer trees,
Wax me lyrical
cold whites of frosts that freeze,
Please dab me
green forests in which I may wend,
In ochre paths of
old history which leadingly bend.
Painter of poems,
let your quill be your paint brush,
May paintings of
words make me swoon & red blush,
Colours of life,
of past times & of sweet given love,
May your works of
art let me soar up, high like a dove.
On your pages
& canvas, let your rhymes be ode birds,
From your quill
& pen, soft painted sonnets in words,
Flow me &
swirl me in the still paints of your breath,
So I may say, “I´ve
loved a poet”, at the hour of my death.
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