My angle visited me just today
and she brought along her tricks
and they blew me away this day
She held within her hand
a butterfly so beautiful
and it spread it’s wings
and my soul-field covered
in her love butterflies
and Van Gogh died today
Today I saw my paint dry
and the canvas prayed
never let that brush go
Today, my hat I tipped
that soul a flavor gold
and I said…
fly on angel
fly through my skies
fly with my colors
My brush I threw away
a painter is a hand
but she’s my heart
:: 04-02-2014 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 