Sevenseven

Easel on her hill of greenness Cheeks shyly red of a virgin sight Breeze tickle eyelashes and paintbrush Ocean tries to guess the coast's vibrations Storm of petals land on a blank canvas Rainbows cry hidden-in-the-background gardens She drops her brush, her fingers weak and helpless She never knew Souls can melt in liquid desire Bells on sheep play an antique choir's tune He lets her pony tail loose in a "Be gentle" whisper The kiss of Gods on an angel's face, eyelids closed A dove surrounded by sheltering, unexplainable tenderness * " I MUST GO".... "I know"... Understood, Heavenly Silence "Be HIS Mother!"