Tinseled Amour

On the solitary dale I stood; my eyes beholding grace,

A pristine canvas floor and streaks of a scarlet face.

As mirror to the sky; the effulgent brook unfurls,

The hues of scarlet clouds; melts on floating pearls.

There a boat awaits; amidst the timid green,

Molten amber hues; adorn the tranquil scene.

A galore of ferns and pines; crave to kiss the sky,

As the hazel clouds; flap their wings to fly.

Silhouettes droop as musings; onto the abysmal brook,

Scarlet and amber hues; coalesce as a fancy book.

Cyan shades in fits; paint a dream portrait;

The canvas of the crust; gleams as a nuptial fate.

The art that weaves His heart; is glorious beneath the blue,

As He holds the brush; the best is what he'll do.

I'm an amoritist; scribbling pink and red;

Yet my ink feel shy when art speaks words unsaid.

When leaves hold golden tinge; autumn has embraced love,

Clouds hold hazel hues; crimson lost above.

Tinselled sky must smile; its now a cherished amour,

Kissing the nacreous crust; it blushes like a whore.