If I could stop time,
I would make it a black and white picture,
With you in it and me,
touching our fingers in a gentle nurture,
sitting down in this background of nature,
some mellow trees,
the stillness of a lake
and the perfect blanket of clovers green,
if only in black and white it could be seen.

The pink of your lips would compete
with the yellow of the flowers,
blossoms in the light blue air of spring,
delicious as the taste of a tangerine,
if only in black and white it could be seen.

The brown of your eyes reflected in mine,
stronger than the physical touch,
stronger than this colored rhyme,
in the stillness of time they sure gleam,
if only in black and white it could be seen.