I Paint the Light

I paint the blue light.
Painting the sun on my step.
My heart pours out hope of destiny,
and the winter darkness fades away.
Though it storms, I dream of spring.
I paint the blue light.

I paint the yellow light.
Butterflies concealed in sun.
They take a break and sit on my hand,
and yield the heavy rainy days.
We’re greeting May, be welcome.
I paint the yellow light.

I paint the red light.
Give life to what is dead.
Picking loads of camomiles,
clovers, angelicas and daisies.
The small things worth memorizing.
I paint the red light.

I paint the green light.
Deep and cool, bottle green.
Giving light when darkness lowers,
forgetting wrinkles aging offers,
hoping my reflection lies.
I paint the green light.

I paint the white light.
The harsh times took their toll.
Bought myself sweet fruits,
for the last pennies I had,
and Vivaldi played his famous tunes.
I paint the white light.

I paint the bright light.
Painting light where it was dark.
Now I have a lot to do.
Though winter comes with stormy days,
still finds a way to make it colorful.
I paint the bright light
.

By: shoutevenshy Read more of her work @ http://allpoetry.com/shoutevenshy

 

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4 thoughts on “I Paint the Light

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