Mind the Paint
Mind the wet paint.
My mind is just simple and quaint.
A breath that strolls in the morning,
slumbers while the sun is not shining.
Of style and originality,
an art gallery
made of various sizes of canvas
color palette of madness;
abstract scenes of hopes and dreams,
a universe trying to break free,
hungry as the sea.
Splashes of summer, fall, winter, and spring.
Whiz it sometimes does bring.
Touched with inner muse,
florets of cardinal hues,
an abstract mind still creating, nor yet set.
Now, mind that the paints still wet.
~
chocolate egg shell
stashed full of colored foil treats
please do not disturb
3/13/2018
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