Saturday, March 3, 2012

Just a spat

Dreamer I may be but I love my happiness and what comes of it.I will always have that little feeling the little chill that makes my mind hum.I can pictutre my dream a scene if you will my own slice of the gardens,full of roses and colorful tulips greens and blues and yellows too.

A silent picture of my garden,gothic and serene.A beautiful home nearby my gorgeous dream filled children laughing and running through the forrest of tall sweet trees flowing in the warm summer breeze.Blue skies and white clouds soar and whistle in my head.

I would love to sit at the top of the emerald hills and close my eyes and watch from a far with a book and sketch pad and my cup of coffee at my side,a pencil behind my ear.

A dreamers scene is what can be said about this little poetic spat.