We met upon a crispy sky
All blue amongst the grey
Another day in paradise
Tis just our simple way
It could have been my writing
We knew it was his art
The chat amongst the coffee
The coming of our start

Such painted works
A gasp of breath all locked away from view
It kept the folk from knocking there
His peace an artists pew

Now some of you may know this chair
But I've seen what it means
Its stains of life all laid on view
Comes safely watched
You know!
The penguins stare.

Its in my grasp ,its in his too
All bubble wrapped each day
The me
Our lives
A new day dawned
Its just some crazy play

Yet
I wish I had a pound or pence just hanging round to paint
But then I'd be an artist too and not the artists mate
So off I must its 4 am
A poets work tis done