Fine art whimsical angels commission me I paint art work in butterfly gardens precious images and yet...
The leaves were made of plastic The stones were made of silk and all the flower petals lined the skyline before they spoke. The creator of webs his forte art nouveau this fantasy art woman listened I tried to decipher his story.
I found myself in contrast to the home the tailor had made. Yet rivers met the dirt beneath his pot of gold the old man sang his tune and washed my sins away.
Flowers were meant to verify our mourning or bring us celebration. I had to pause and look inside my heart. I grieved for me sent support for the old man and yet his heart was torn apart.
I picked the only flowers left at midnight and held them captive. With much precision they returned my steady glare. I picked up the innocent flowers a bouquet of much descent I said I understood their warnings would be careful with their lace like innocence.
One day must be holy We all must guard reserves and although the dragon received no loyalty this day was welcome over graves that will forever teach us what is there for us to learn.
The moon never howls at midnight anymore. I guess the end has found its way to being somewhat happy. Long past the eerie decision when a dragons angel ran away I mark my place. I hold my compass nearby. Despite my marooned friend's mistakes He still claims to have found the answer and vows to chant its tune and ring its sound forever.
Don't ever trust a tailor to darn your mending heart left to his own wisdom he will post your wings on coasters neath a glass he meant to wash and put away on a dusty shelf.
There is an honesty in lying and a joke beyond the smoke Yet there are no longer monsters in the closet to decipher glorious roars. There is a tail behind the dog pretending not to wag and I say gentleness caresses the moons adventures and I will climb that restless gift though tattered from past decisions.
Spaces of acknowledgment that must be deeply felt a journey that reaches to the other side. A center for compassion for our own endeavors and in deed our own encumbered selves.
Fine art whimsical angel commission me. I paint art work in butterfly garden.
Copyright January 2007, Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
