Paint me a picture,
won’t you?
of not images,
but words that trickle
out of your lips.
the light that shines
in your eyes,
in the dark hours.
a picture of love and
its tender shower.
the unsaid vows that
beat in the hearts.
the warmth that you
give to my veins.
the tingle in the spine,
the blush on my
cheeks.
the aura around me,
that on me,
you bestowed.
the moment, when the
heart missed a beat,
and the window left open,
through which my
heart flew away
to you.
the moment, when I lost
myself,
and found us.
paint me a picture, won’t you...
of the unexplained feelings
and the unleashed emotions?
but don’t pick up the brush,
and don’t mix colours in your
palette and don’t you look
for a bare canvas...
paint on my heart, my soul
and my skin...
the colours of you...
and let me be totally
tinted by your hues...
paint on me a picture,
unseen by others...
won’t you?
6 comments:
"but don’t pick up the brush,
and don’t mix colours in your
palette and don’t you look
for a bare canvas..."
This poem is beautiful and different from other love poems that I've read so far...thoughts profound in this one...Really startling at how a soft loving poem can be so honest and appealing to even the wisest heads,as i am sure this will be... .a poet's take indeed this one, for the gentle love you associate with words, the eyes that look for colours and pictures hidden in, but the words makes it a masterstroke :)
"paint me a picture, won’t you...
of the unexplained feelings
and the unleashed emotions?
paint on me a picture,
unseen by others...
won’t you?"
Just this stroke of emotion is enough to admire the beauty of it..Wow !! If ever one was hoplelessly lost in love, this is the language they would use. Ive always admired this genre of writes from your pen...the simplicity is just beguiling...since it has the weight of feeling and communicates so much more than just the sum total of words...very very good indeed!!
Another piece of sheer beauty! Just loved this one so very very much! I'll read it differently. I remember as a child (*and still) I try to attribute shapes to clouds, as if some divine hand is sculpturing and painting them. And the poem speaks of a child's wish to see them, and then catch on to the feel of the rain. She lets her window open, and gets drenched in the rain, the feel of the drops pouring down the skin.
Tad eccentric a reader, aint I? Anyways, let me say again Sir - "you are the best"...*salutes*
this is a really beautiful poem. really struck me. and so true..
love it.
:) I can't no more!
Wow. Radiant.
Paint, I say, paint.
Red, blue, orange, big brushes, small brushes, a little here, a soft stroke there ... wow, what words can do.
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