Like a Painting...

Like a painting...
The sensitive brush strokes of water colour,
Hues of blues and violets, blending so delicately.
Then the rich oils daubed in gentle whites, greys,
deep, deep purple-
Giving birth to fat, lazy clouds, pregnant with rain,
Motionless against the canvas of the sky.

Tiny dots of jet-black ink show the distant flight of swallows
Suspended in flawless formation,
With swoops gliding against the sighing of summer air.
Faraway places are etched into my mind’s eye.
The rocky strength of mountains on the horizon
Draped in a patchwork of light and shade.
Closer still, the rough green sketch of thorn trees.
Khaki and sienna curved in the breeze.

A playful gust sends the leaves and limbs of trees
Crackling and rustling in astonishment.
It is the symphony of sounds painting my senses alive
To a rainbow of singing colours:
Twinkled pink twittering of birds,
A reverberating crimson neigh of a horse,
Single pearls of silence,
A rich bronze voice calling...

I drink in the masterpiece surrounding me-
A picture which brings both serenity and awe.
Art at its most peaceful and animated.
As the sun dips lower, fading from gold to dusty rose
The trees transform into spiky silhouettes,
shadows stretched like fingertips,
Raking the horizon, reaching, in vain, for the swiftly fading sky. 

One by one the sprinkled glitter of stars prick the skies.
Like exotic fruits, fat with quicksilver light,
Close enough to be plucked from the midnight blue.
Nature plays out its ordinary routine
And I am left breathless in its wake.