A Nice Picture

My art included you which was beyond me,
soft curves provided incredible transient mystery;
Renoir painted dreams which he couldn't possess,
and what looked like more was probably less.

The shadows of beige are etched forever more,
layer upon layer of all and parlez vous l'amour;
we climbed into surrealism and found your soul,
and realised that this charisma was not hyperbole.  

You see a collage of beauty just intertwined,
unattainable and unlikely that you could ever find,
the soft twined brown hair, nakedness just laid bare,
rested hands close, beckoning without any care.

So were they real or just a figment of imagination,
of course they were - forever an indelible combination.