Painting You
![Pinterest-image-about-oil-painting.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmec8zNk7uNWPEPCGKTuzf5Wp4eSi7RpBouJV61ztrD4hL/Pinterest-image-about-oil-painting.jpg)
Awake, I was too timid to trace
Your face upon a page.
I wrote you –
Made you my character.
Fell in love with you
But can’t finish our story
For fear of losing you.
So, now I paint you in words,
Calm as a cat in sunlight;
My thoughts free as a kite
In a seaside sky.
I think of the waves
And want to go back
But can’t—
The past and dreams conspire
Put walls between us and desire.
And now,
Your memory's a cobweb,
A mere filmy dream,
That catches me...
Unsubstantial as cotton candy
And about as sweet;
Though lately it seems
My dreams are twisted bed sheets—
And only serve
To interrupt my sleep,
Encumbering my mind
With our legs entwined.
Power that writers, poets have: recreate worlds, invent stories, make dreams come true, @johnjgeddes! Sometimes when we can't live something out of fear, clumsiness or simply because of life itself, we manage to take it to the page, a place where we are heroes, lovers, victorious. Life is not a space for those of us who dream. Then literature can be an armored place for those who break dreams! We discover then the refuge in the page and in the characters that we have created. Because sometimes reality, if we look at it from the front, hits us in the eyes. A dose of dreams in this October, please! Good night, John
A dose of dreams seems the perfect prescription for a moody October night. Thanks, as always, Nancy. Brilliant insights
It is beautiful, well written and visualised.
Only the last line jars...the word "are" does not belong....or so I think, or else, the word "with" should read as "while"...am I wrong?
Arggh ...I hate typo's - you're right. I was debating between 'while ' and 'with' and ended up with a whiff :)
very perfect painting. in this story you are afraid of losing, I think losing is a risk in love, when we dare to love we must dare to accept that loss. So don't be too dear. in this world there is no eternal love. too much love for flowers, flowers will wither. Too much love for humans, humans will die.
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So true, this eternal preoccupation with love and loss, but without it, there would be no poetry :)
Very nice painting and the wonderful poet.
Thank you
👌👌👌 very nice
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nice quotes and painting
So beautiful so good I like it and well written