PAINTER OF WORDS

I am an artist, a painter, the type that paint with words
So let me paint this day back some score years and more
Lemme give a touch of red to a woman, my mother, with burstling cervix
My blessed crowning, my halo, a beat, my frown.
Dash a purple over my holy silence, my heartbeat, a pinch, a cry.

Sprinkle gold over the ethereal, the beings of another world.
Fair cherubs assigned my safe passage as chores.
Fish- grey to every tissues, pipes, vessels that they broke and re-fixed.
And my father was pacing outside,in prayers, with slippers, a clown.
Lemme give him wine, for patience, for pacing , for cries.

With gusto, and blue, I became me held by a cord.
And my first joy was to masked men of one or more.
So lemme give a taint of white to The doctors,the midwives for care, for service.
Yellow to the gay, the air,the aura of my town.
Let me paint orange the mouth that herald my birth and those who did try.

Let me paint me now as I paint
Let me augment with green the shapes, the lines, that underlie my smile
My family, some oxblood, for strength and support and trust
My red has been spared for friends, for love who see me high above my faults
And my love is kept for you who read my lines, my paintings, it's all for you.

All images save for that of the writer are from Pinterest.com