Paint me not flowers or starlit skies,
Not lips like cherries or lover’s sighs.
Bring me a truth the world overlooks.
A love not found in poems or books.
I’ve painted embraces in lavender light.
But they fade with the dawn and leave the heart contrite.
Bring me a hue drawn straight from the soul
And paint me a love that makes broken things whole.
Then I’ll paint you a love that stays through the storm,
With hands that hold even when they’re worn.
Two souls weathered, but steady and brave.
Two souls who tried, but couldn’t quite stay.
A love once real, yet slipped away.1
I tried to mimic the poem the Paint Box by E. V. Rieu (1887-1972). It is one of my favorite poems of all times.
“Cobalt and umber and ultramarine,
Ivory black and emerald green ─
What shall I paint to give pleasure to you?”
“Paint for me somebody utterly new.”
“I have painted you tigers in crimson and white.”
“The colors were good and you painted aright.”
“I have painted the cook and a camel in blue
And a panther in purple.” “You painted them true.
Now mix me a color that nobody knows,
And paint me a country where nobody goes,
And put in it people a little like you,
Watching a unicorn drinking the dew.”
What a brilliant poem, hit my heart like a freight train. I once felt like I had the potential to write like this, but no more. I leave it to the experts like yourself, who have refined and mastered this art - you have the ability to elicit feelings and memories that are buried so deep - like magic you are able to pull them out from a place where they had been all but lost or forgotten.
You got me, Amina 🥹
I don’t typically “get” poetry, but I got this….all the way.