Here love exists.
In our house with yellow walls and white curtains that flutter like ghosts.
we collect sea shells, Hope, brooms, gods and those lost and wandering.
In our house with yellow walls and white curtains that flutter like ghosts.
we collect sea shells, Hope, brooms, gods and those lost and wandering.
Here love exists.
We create. Images wrap themselves around our fingertips.
Little parts of our soul washes out in ink on paper.
Here single Brushstrokes can erase storms.
Technicolour dreams hang on every ceiling like clothes from a line or perhaps stars in the sky.
Purplesky.watermelonred. the soft gold that lines clouds.
the green that exists only in the heart of a grape.
We create. Images wrap themselves around our fingertips.
Little parts of our soul washes out in ink on paper.
Here single Brushstrokes can erase storms.
Technicolour dreams hang on every ceiling like clothes from a line or perhaps stars in the sky.
Purplesky.watermelonred. the soft gold that lines clouds.
the green that exists only in the heart of a grape.
6 comments:
this is where my life falls into place and were my soul is kept its happyest.!: ) :)
this is where my life falls into place and were my soul is kept its happyest.!: ) :)
simultaneous conversation wrapped in music and yellow tupperware you live, safe in white curtain haven.
no one can taint this love affair
"The Angel that presided o’er my birth
Said, “Little creature, formed of Joy and Mirth,
Go, love without the help of anything on Earth.”
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