If I could paint a vision of beauty and truth to decorate
the heavenly skies they would be your dreamy eyes
Oh but what brush shall I use to your muse?

If I could build a temple in honor of your dimples when you smile
What material would be best to fashion your style?

If I were to sculpt your succulence I could never perfect it as well as who shaped you previously in your opulence

Though you may have your own vision of self image
What you may not see another can paint a tapestry to fill a museum of your beauty

We all come in many shapes and colors as we can physically see the basics
Yet, can anyone paint the myriad of hopes and dreams
tucked away inside our hearts that may have or not come true?
As we watch our days pass by like a rippling stream

Can we see the lines that mark our times of joy and sorrow painted on our face and still see the beauty to embrace?
Have we become so bitter dancing in our litter that we
have forgotten our true selves exhausted from the race?

When I think of you dancing in the morning dew as the flowers unfold to praise you

When I see the oceans crash about I think of your pretty little pout
As I feel the pains of old age creeping in and ponder my life with doubts

I see my beloved reaching for my hand as she leads me to the promised land.