The painter.

I painted what her eyes could see, a river a heart in love, and as the waters rushed to me, felt lightly the wings of a dove, it flew as by the riverbank into a nearby Vine, as my heart felt closer still to her , her love
was true divine

In blue shades I paint the sky, little flowers wild and free, with little hearts of inner red
She blossomed dear 
to me

The opening of a cherry rose, the closing of her eyes, white and little starlet sparkles
Filled the blackened night

There it was the light of hers, with secrets long and gleaming, that kept my heart in full for her
Warm to touch, but dreaming

I kissed the moments of her love as if the last goodbye
And captured still in all its fullness, a shooting  star to die.