The Song Of Richard Brown

Watching the palette spoke a bemused Richard Brown

"Must I pour bright red all over your gown;

Make a soporific colour for your half closed eyes

With thick oil and paints to blend your lies.

Just above your temples a scintilla of violet

And your cheeks below dry, no, maybe a little wet;

The tranquil shade of the smile on your lips

Hiding behind your nonchalant golden hair wisps..."

The brushes of Richard Brown danced along

And the cerulean composition became a song

He watched beauty carve out of creative stains

And from terra incognita came rushing his pains

Washing his brush, said he in a voice weak :

"Elizabeth, there's a promise you failed to keep.

For now, you are looking into my eyes, straight

A thousand years is perhaps a long wait

In this picture shall I watch your eyes

Never losing those dreams over the endless skies

Look, your lips are red, brighter than the rose

The song's been written, the diary's 'bout to close..."

Standing up, Richard Brown turned towards his right

Where lay his dream, in obscured teary sight.

Walking over the cold pebbles, Brown heard the air

Weep in taciturnity at a lover's despair;

He watched the red rose lying the same way on her

And the yellowed leaves playing just near the corner.

Spoke the famous artist Richard Brown after a sigh

"Your promise to love me forever was a lie.

For now, you sleep below the earth I walk on.

Every letter is burnt, now every dream is gone.

But I had made a promise, too, one sunny day

In every tempest of tears, I would always stay

No death can paint the azure sky black, never;

Look at my canvas ; Haven't I made you alive forever?"