The Green Room

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.