A PERFECT SUMMER DAY

colour-my-world

Portovenere, Italy ~ Luca Libralato

Brushstrokes of blue and gray

outline the puffy clouds.

Broad swipes of teal and aquamarine

meet the neverending horizon.

Swells of purest white

rise from the blue depths.

As my fingers reach for the canvas,

my gaze travels to the brushes,

and I shake my head.

No painting is needed

to capture the perfect day.

I stare around me

at nature’s perfect handiwork.

PERFECT

coiour-my-world

Portovenere, Italy ~ Luca Libralato

Brush strokes of blue and gray

to fill in the puffy clouds.

Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine

to meet the neverending horizon.

Each wave swell of purest white

rises from the depths of dark blue.

My fingers reach for the canvas.

My eyes travel to the brushes.

I shake my head.

No painting is needed.

No copy will diminish the essence 

of a perfect summer day at the shore.

NO PAINTING REQUIRED

coiour-my-world

Portovenere, Italy ~ Luca Libralato

Brush strokes of blue and gray

to fill in the puffy clouds.

Crayon swipes of teal and aquamarine

to meet at the neverending horizon.

Each wave swell of the purest white

to rise from the depths of dark blue.

My fingers reach for the canvas.

My eyes travel to the brushes.

I shake my head.

No painting is needed.

No copy to diminish the essence 

of a perfect summer day at the shore.

A DAY AT THE BEACH

alecsgrg

Pier 60 | ( by Claude Allaert )

I want to enjoy the summer light.

It does shine on the water so bright.

Smell the salt water in the  air.

Let the sea breeze flow through my hair.

Happiness is a day at the beach.

It is what I so dearly beseech.

A day with no worries or fears.

No bad things to bring me to tears.

SUMMER

alecsgrg:

Pier 60 | ( by Claude Allaert )

SUMMER

I want to enjoy the summer light.
It does shine on the water so bright.
Smell the salt water in the  air.
Let the sea breeze flow through my hair.
Happiness is a day at the beach.
It is what I so dearly beseech.
A day with no worries or fears.
No bad things to bring me to tears.

DREAM A DREAM

elinka:

A small cabin perched on a green hill.
The closest house is on the nearby hill.
Quiet rules the day.
The sun shines bright and clear.
The wind ruffles the slope of green grass.
The lone tree beckons for someone to
sit beneath it.
To sit in its shade with a book in one hand
and a glass of lemonade in the other.
Come and join my dream.