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| Image Source - Google |
I often pick a brush to paint
Dipping it in a delightful color
Forming to lay the first streak
On the face of plain canvas
I panic for a fleeting moment
Shy of smearing the pristineness
Brushing aside that flimsy fright
Love for art leading on
I progress then to paint it whole
Did you feel this way, my Love
When you let your slender fingers
Wrap around my restless ones
In that first blissful moment
Shunning all signs and sounds
To speak in words of soulful touch
Hinting at your heart’s intents?
Did your heart flutter a while
As you painted the first touch
In the canvas of our pure love?
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