She Whispered:
"You paint a vision so freely, your imagination dances;
contemporary to the beat of your heart.
Poppies tickle my feet as I spin in circles of my arms held out
ready for your embrace.
holding them softly, so delicately displayed...
Your hands mould a sculpture and I watch with admiration,
because only you have the gift of turning nothing into
beauty"
I whispered Back:
"You paint a vision so freely, your imagination dances
to the music of my heart.
As poppies tickle your feet, you spin in circles of your
arms and create a tornado that pulls me in, and takes me high coalesced with
scents from the poppies.
Then you begin to sing a song that fills my ears, reassuring you wouldn't let me fall.
Holding me up so softly and so delicately, so I could trace
the heaven for you...
Your hands in constant move, following the beats booming
through my heart, and I watch them with admiration
Because only you have the gift of creating such beauty to
leave your admirers in awe!
* * *
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