Painted Lady
I painted a painting
so that you could see
The person I wished
that you could be
Your eyes were pure blue
Just like they are
But the look was near
Instead of far
In my painting
You had not a care
You were with me
in a moment rare
Flowing blonde hair
and a lovely smile
meant just for me
at least for that while
Time can be cruel
sometimes so unfair
Paint portrays perfect
that wasn’t there
This painting a remnant
from so long ago
of the lady I loved
but would never know
In my painting
enjoying our play
Painting myself in
on a perfect day
We were holding hands
walking on a beach
Things picture perfect
just beyond my reach
It was silly pretend
a longing in me
That person I wished
that you could be
On a museum wall
for others to view
“Wouldn’t it be great
to be like those two?”
A fictional account.
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