blue eyes, like the sky, shape the color with your hands, summer breeze, drifts the sand, as the sun sets behind the trees, that rim the distance in the harbour, as you dread the oncoming night, and the tide switches places, dream of me clutching your hand, and falling asleep to the rythmn of your heart, there is the painters canvas in the sky, all the hues to the human eye, the exploding reds and the fading greens, as if he dropped his easel intentionally, it all falls into place, inside the circle, inside the bubble, that floats with the image, that springs to your head, it is just sensible and practical, perfect reality...... by joshua farmer 8-22-1999