Painting in the green room
pigment drips on hardwood floors
a collection of eclectic stains
beautiful as they are
And morning light, so milky and clear,
pours through my window and glistens the air
turns absinthe walls to a minty glow
that the darkness would not allow
I could not call it a castle, or a chateau-
nor a palazzo, not at all.
More like a cottage, I suppose-
homely in its atmosphere.
And the paintings hung to inspire
depict such fairytale places
like the one upon my eastern wall,
the pathway to paradise.
And I\'ve gazed at it since I was young, and seen its every angle
the verde path to a faraway, that I\'ve dreamt must be to Eden
with rhododendrons lining all of its walk,
to a floral finale kept hidden
And lovingly I name it:
The Green Room and the painting of heaven.