Artful Dream

Standing alone, upon your dreams.

You are the painter, I'll be the paint.

You brush me to the left, blue as the sea;

Or brushing me right, green as the leaves.

Your mind is the canvas, I'll be the art.

You can sketch my landscape, with a coastal breeze.

Or sketch a home, where a garden grows free.

My world appears blank, without a story to tell.

So sculpt us a world, where I'm under your spell.