And I shall paint dreams to match my life
in a majestic landscape,
where dancing steps move below sunlit sky.

Where birds feathers become my brush
and breath the power to guide canvas-like path.

Where Michelangelo will take notice
from heavens gate and celebrated
with thunderous applaud.

I shall paint my dreams into reality
upon canvas of self.
Where words become my pigment
of choice and canvas stretched with song.

Where airbrush of inhales align
with present moment to expand creative mind.

Where every evolving masterpiece is observed
by others in my walk of life so many smile
and perhaps send a like.

Where my paintbrush becomes
poets pen and ink color to touch page.

Yes, I shall paint with force
to launch a thousand dreams.
Won’t you join me in my
walking museum called life?

Light streams through the window,
Beckoning her to come out of the dim.
A spotlight on her blank canvas;
She was yearning to see him.

Oil, water and paint blend
With her blood, sweat and tears,
Slowly and agonizingly dripping
From her brush, brows and ears.

Then there he is, tall and bright;
A sun-kissed face dressed in a golden vase.
She painted his image in sunflowers:
He's her masterpiece no one can recreate.