I paint the picture with pastel colors. Dotting the sky in pink clouds While the horizon lay in an amber slumber. A single pine tree slanted towards the crystal lake; I draw another for companionship. And it soon blooms into a forest With shrubs and blackberry bushes and ferns, Then I make a ripple in the lake With leaves that drift along the gentle current To the farther edges of the tender loch.
I envisioned the clear waters of the wetlands As I cleaned my pallet and washed away the paint, Like how painting landscapes washed away my worries.
I'm sure you saw a completely different image to what I actually painted. You are such a unique, beautiful creature.