|
THE TRUE PICTURE If I could paint I would paint a snow coated mountain Crisp, fresh, virgin snow Pines in the silhouette Not a soul in sight. But how would I paint The wind cutting my cheek Drying my lips Burning my eyes Freezing my bones?
If I could paint I would paint a wineglass A slender fragile body Delicate and fine And yet so vulnerable. But how would I paint The wine going sour? The gentle maroon turning grey The sweet gone bitter The bad taste in my mouth?
If I could paint I would paint a wooden cabin With a warm fire going Lacy curtains Treasured valuable antiques. But how would I paint The mistrust in the air The unhappiness in the walls The disillusionment in the sounds Tiring me out?
If I could paint I would paint an ocean With gentle white lather Sea gulls in the distance A boat or two. But how would I paint The pain in the depths The disappointment in the waves The sadness in the sky Spoiling my perfect scene?
Maybe its fortunate I don’t paint Because I realise I am not a very good painter at all. ~Aekta~
The Author has
copyright © of the poems |