16 Oct 2011

I dream of hills drawn in crayon, of watercolor skies.
I dream of forests colored in oils, deer sketched in magic marker.
I dream of a sun streaming down ink, and a whole world to paint.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

1 Comment »

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    Indeed, my dream forests are painted in thick, dark green oils, as well. Great poem, John.

    Comment by Karla — 21 Oct 2011 @ 3:46 pm

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