I want to paint,

I want to paint the hope of a child, as they close their eyes gently, waiting for perfect presents on Christmas morning,

the love of a family as they sit around the table eating a meal as yummy as a bar of chocolate,

the happiness of curious children digging in the sand at the beach, sea splashing them every once in a while,

the sadness of a child being told off after hitting their stupid sibling,

the bravery of a man, fighting forcefully for his country

I want to paint,

the taste of a strawberry, as ripe as a juicy plum,

an apple, sitting sadly in the bottom of the fruit bowl,

a warm mug of hot chocolate, screaming drink me at the children,

a honey-covered pancake, the perfect breakfast for a young child,

the smell of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, waiting for someone to take them out and have a bite.

I want to paint a garden of roses, elegantly moving in the cool breeze.

I want to paint the snow falling gracefully onto the green grass.

I want to paint the memory of Tizzy the tabby cat, sitting in the sink.

I want to paint a broken glass laying lonely on the ground.

I want to paint the feeling of a pen in my hands, working like magic onto the page.

I want to paint a pine tree standing tall like a giant.

I want to paint the end of this piece of work.