The sun was setting slow and sure
Sifting through the pale-grey clouds
In the distant east the bright blue sky
Was fading into darkest night
The far-off hills of green
Earned their purple shadows
And as the clouds turned pearly pink
Her pen flew to catch the magic
And still, she thought with a deep sigh
Something was not quite right
She understood the beauty
And the colors looked just fine
But without the essence of the sight
She could not seem to get it right
She could not catch the glow
Of love in the creation
For there was love in all this beauty
That was missing from her life
She thought about the things she had
And her silver pen came out
She thought about the love she had known
As she lined each pearly cloud
And when - so very much like life -
Each had its spots of silver and gold
She found the truth she sought
For her painting was just right
And she knew just how to make it so
In her own lonely life