Painted Pictures
You paint your pictures, on the canvas of my mind.
Ebbing and flowing, as your thoughts become released.
Texture and color, are displayed with every line.
A banquet of flavours, I'm treated to a feast.
Your imagination, laid bare for me to see.
Ebbing and flowing, as your thoughts become released.
I fly upon your wings, a part of me is free.
I dance on the wind, as my soul begins to sing
Your imagination, laid bare for me to see.
Freely you are giving all the words that you bring.
You hold nothing back, that is your poetic gift.
I dance on the wind, as my soul begins to sing
There are certain days, when we can all use a lift.
Your words are special, like small diamonds in the sky
You hold nothing back, that is your poetic gift
I don't understand, why I'm sometimes moved to cry
Your words are special, like small diamonds in the sky
You paint your pictures, On the canvas of my mind.
Texture and color, are released with every line.
After reading one of Heather Ober's poems I got to thinking how
much the poets here move me with their words. I dedicate this
Poem to all of you. I am pleased to allow your words to wash
over me and seep into my very soul. This is my small thank you.
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