Painting My Dreams
I've never blamed a single soul
For mistakes I've made in life.
I've worn a dozen different hats,
Such as teacher, mom, and wife.
I've fallen flat and messed up big.
I've striven to meet my goals.
Been whiplashed by a twisting fate,
Resizing for all those molds.
But through it all I had a charm
That kept me from despair.
I'd grab my brush and canvas,
And paint dreams with such care,
That circumstances 'round me,
Would slip away, would fade.
I paint life bright and cheerful,
In worlds my brushes made.
~~~
To view some of my paintings, click on the paint pallette.
Dear Jessica, NEVER substitute "it MIGHT have been", for "I WILL make it / paint it as IT IS!!". Painting, as poem-ing is an additive art: we put layers on & on , & eventually it is our own self-portrait. Good to see you writing again. Love & prayers, Teddy.
"Poe" I'm not, nor "Rich" am I,
but I'll be famous, b'ye and b'ye !