The Painter

He's an artist with a stroke so smooth A brush across your heart The colors on the canvas move And so begins his art He paints his love with blue and gray The colors never fade away He lets you in his vestibule and greets you with a smile No further will he let you go Pretense of love, heart of guile Blending in the hues of love He captures all your dreams Then hangs his work upon the wall How lovely it all seems He's not allowed to sell his work Your not positioned to buy And so the painting hangs alone The paint will never dry