Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

The Canvas of My Dreams

I am painting a picture and the sky is blue,
the mountain's surrounded by fog and the dew.
The river is wide, deep and still as the water
slowly cascades through the thicket of the
hills and the dale.

The hawk visits both morning and night and
soaring over the trees is powerful in flight.
Chickens are scurrying about the yard as
the ducks take to the water to remain safer
from shore.

The hues are deeper, the visual serene as
I gaze into the garden of dreams. Roses
are blooming in red, yellow and a variety
of pink ,a performance of blooms done
in sync.

Placed on the grass a blanket in checks of
blue, where you sit and I lay my head on
your lap and stare up at you. Your eyes
bright and a story they tell, how our love
 so wonderfully deep in the heart dwells.

I reached for your hand, you reached for
my heart. I laughed and I cried from the
very start.  I saw and end you saw a
beginning as you sent me a buoy and I
began swimming.

I added a bench, you added your soul,
and we strolled through the seasons,
from the warmth of the summer and
the brisk winds and winters of bold.

 I doubted, you believed a scenery we
made, where lovers danced on the puffy
white clouds of the day. The angels were
singing, the birds were in flight and our
hearts were released free that night.

I am painting a picture and the sky is blue
and the colors are more vivid as I share
my love for you. Shades of pink, mauve
and white reflect of our love as we
celebrate tonight.


In the canvas of my dreams, 
I always see you and I , 
sometimes I am lying in your 
arms and sometimes you are 
in mine. 

There is never any heartache, 
no tears for you and I , no matter
where the road takes us, we'll have
our love to get us by. 

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