Stirring a dream, I know not when -
I paint the canvas in colours of rain.
The wings of imagination, my brush -
filled with pictures in a dreamy rush.
In splattered realm of colours, I see
the untold desires as they may be.
Strokes that across the canvas goes -
numbs the pain, eases my woes.
A crowd of dreams in a playful tussle,
to me lightly whispers in a mild rustle.
Some cravings vanish, without a bye;
In sleep, I grope both low and high.
Within the dream, a restlessness arise -
some distant echoes fades and dies.
Splashes of colours are joyful and free.
My feelings are painted in a gleeful spree.
My passion's scent on the canvas spread -
in caution my brush on edges slowly tread.
An image of a woman, comes into view -
who have bestowed life in me and you.
Prasenjit©1997-2025
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