artsyrella

                   soul child         old soul bubbly laughter in spunky yellow           she loved               her flower popsicles       lush curls                 brave eyes                  zeal!          she is:                               caramel freckles                                          tart skies      &                            creamy peach icing

they translate sky     rocks   & plains into a swarm       of swirls          dots            jabs &             scratches               Foam ing     cable-knit patterns imply the heav ing          gusts of wind rustl ing     olive branches & bend ing     gnarled olive trunks;          whispery microscopic speckles, end less numbers of them                           mimic the quality of dull light on receding fields as they evaporate          into the horizon          You can even sense colour—                                      the dark brown of the earth                                      the yellow &            

only a heart like hers can know bitter anguish and         fondest hopes                                   quicksand life, to her, had lost its greatest charms,         scarcely leaving a trace of                                      their former                                                      e xi   st                                                                         en  c   e

there are times when I find myself listening to your voice and thinking it was made to know which strings to play for my heart to start singing within my soul