Painter of portraits
By wtk82
Love, the greatest artist. See the birth of the morning in your eyes. The painter of portraits begins his work with a simple brush and a moment in time. Quiet, an artist is at work. The sun rising. Stretching endlessly across the plain. Miles of glowing beauty, above the morning horizon. The artist of love paints in a reflection of passion. Staring into your eyes, place the brush on a canvas of affection. Quiet, an artist is at work. The wind speaks Whispering endlessly across the hills. Miles of swaying daises, surround the endless creeks. The artist of love paints in a shadow of fire. Staring into your eyes, place the brush on a canvas of desire. Love, the greatest artist. See the birth of the morning in your eyes. The painter of portraits begins his work with a simple brush, and a moment in time. Quiet, an artist is at work. Nature breathing. Exhaling endlessly across the lakes. Miles of rising steam, in the realm of love’s true meaning. The artist of love paints in the arms of tenderness. Staring into your eyes, place the brush on a canvas of endearment. Written October 29th, 2001 © on Dec 28 2001 06:10 AM PST 18 • 0 • 8
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"Love,..."