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I want to paint…

I want to paint…

I want to paint a great, grand G-class Mercedes racing along the High Street like a cheetah catching its prey,

the taste of rhubarb crumble tingling my taste buds,

octopuses submerging themselves in the murky depths below

and the thought of salted caramel ice cream entering my lovely lips.

 

I want to paint the sound of a motorbike as its engine revs louder and louder and louder,

apples falling on every inch of the clearing

and monkeys in the zoo, lashing out at my windscreen wipers.

 

I want to paint every colour and every paint,

musical notes dancing around in the music room

and tigers leaping through the rain forest.

 

I want to paint a feather floating lifelessly through the midday air,

my teeth as they sink into a lovely fresh, apple pie

and me writing this poem.

 

 

 

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