Sleepy breath getting softer,

Warm thoughts disperse like watercolor paint on damp paper.

Tones & hues move with ease on the blank page,

Like how honey soaked sentiments flow naturally from crooked smiles.

Lovely memories replay in ultraviolet hyperdrive.

Everything gets a little bit brighter,

Until it all shines like marquee lights & shooting stars.

Looking gently through the blushing blue,

Squinting tired eyes, trying to make out the dancing shapes behind the sunset tinted haze of the morning–

Like watching a shadow puppet show through indigo dyed sheets,

Watching for the shadows of feet under the door–

Listening for a velveteen step down the hallway.

The buttery bliss of detaching, catching you off guard,

Like catching the faint fragrance of lilac blossoms in the springtime breeze.

Graced & comforted by the serenity of effervescent feelings for a fading moment.

Yet, it’s all a means to an end,

Until the dawn kidnaps you from that dreamy landscape,

Waking you from the lush gardens of your mind,

Pulling you back into the simplicity of the ordinary.

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One thought on “Pigment Of My Imagination 

  1. I love this one, Elise.

    My favorite line: Like how honey soaked sentiments flow naturally from crooked smiles.

    I hope you seriously look into the book we talked about in Grass Valley. This one must be in it … the words roll off my tongue … the pictures are painted in my mind … it evokes so much in me but I cannot explain quite why … that, to me, is what poetry is all about.

    This one is perfect.

    Like

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