Those blues and greens that I have seen, the eyes that look within the dream, makes me wonder,  what artist's muse could conjure up such greens or blues?.
In a universe beyond our own where paints are mixed, let's call it home from home, for we are all as one within the coated layers.
What prayers you make and to whom will not distract me from this room of a hundred thousand hues and more
and as the eyes look on I soar beyond into the metaphor,
this link of chain, this lions mane flows wild with glee and as sweet as any honey bee it colours me.
In the shade where light can fade the fullness of her lips are made a touch of ruby red, the blueness of her eyes more blue, in dreams that look within me, you become the muse I see,
the greens and blues
the muse becomes the artistry.