he carefully traced his brush along the canvas,
its stem daring to fall from his fingertips.
his strokes were gentle, and when he mixes his colors he made sure it was the right one.
his splatters were all around the corners
but he’d go back to fix them.
he gently brushed his finger across her cheek,
his fingers weak, threatening to fall.
his touch was serene, resisting the temptation to scar her again.
the times he would make a mistake were uncountable,
but he’d always come back with an apology.
neither were perfect, and at the end of the day
his artwork was the one he loved more.

Where the peacock paints the green into the gardens with her crown jewels of blue,
She stayed there longer to watch the plumage of hues.
A canvas full of colours that are very loud,
Is this is what makes you so proud?

Funny how you cannot see your own beauty in the colours that are true,
Instead you see them in ultraviolet, not your royal blue!
She can clearly see, she had eyes,
Strutting conspicuously, it walked away showing off it’s prize.
It thrived where others merely survived, and never ceased to leave them mystified.

She felt like a splash of brown and grey in a room full of vibrant peacocks,
Never realised how time flies with the ticking of the clocks.
For even though she couldn’t fly, at least she knew she had tried.

Paintbrush and paints
can make empty canvas
               change its identity

Spreading like ink on the canvas of moon light,
grey clouds drifted haphazardly across the skies;
as we talked about life endlessly into the night,
all my stars had aligned in her dark brown eyes...

My beloved is a painter who paints life on canvas
My eyes are ever loving to search love in creation
But when I tell her to paint me she becomes anxious
She takes a blank sheet of paper to buss it as a fashion

Is it love that she can not ignore but always explore
How to embrace me in her own style so stunning
She apparently ignores but in her heart she adores
She is like a beautiful flowers string in blooming spring

Time and again she becomes angry to leave me alone
Time and again I check her on one pretext or another
Even if we throw stone on each other but still we own
We go by love with all difficulties from bolder to bolder

Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow