I want to travel to the places you paint.
Inside each frame is a sunset never the same.
Each white fluff of the brush, used for clouds.
Each splattered white dot to serve as stars.
One hard stroke right in pink, soft left with orange.
The trees whether be palm, oak, or evergreen give the only oxygen I want to breath.
The water crashing against the rough edged rock that you built.
The strong wind taking control and turning the sail.
The sand that holds two chairs, one for you, one for me.
I want to go into your art, I want to live there.
I want to become each stroke of ur brush,
each pretty sky you draw.
I want to be feeling the unseeable breeze casted in the way a tree bends on your canvas.
I want to smell the bitter ocean waves; salt burning my nose.
I want to feel the sand crumble and disperse between my toes.
I want to live in the places you paint.
On both the sea and the land, in each crashing wave.
I want to exist in your frame.
YOU ARE READING
My Poems
PoetryThis book simply contains poems that I've written. Some will be sad, others will be cute and happy. Some about people, others about nature. There is a quite a wide variety. Hopefully you like them :) Ps: I will put TW at the beginning of poems that...
