I want to paint-

the footprints of beautiful baby bunnies sprinting across the florescent forest floor,

the towering trees tilting back and forth in the whistling wind,

a colony of bumblebees chattering charmingly to one another,

the sweet smell of blossoming buds, bursting open as spring arrives

and the wonderfully, warm water drifting past me as I stroll slowly into the woods.

I want to paint-

the pigs sprinting around as quickly as an aeroplane taking of into the sky,

A horse galloping across the horizon with the wind flowing through its gorgeous silky mane,

the sheep shouting as noisily as children playing on a summer’s day,

the farmer bellowing as angry as a hungry tiger to all of the workers

and a tractor working as hard as a mother deer getting food for her fawn.

I want to paint the smell of  fresh grass being cut by a lawnmower.

I want to paint the taste of fresh honeycomb, mouth drooling.

I want to paint the sound of a horses neigh echoing in the distance.

I want to paint the memory of grandpa Harry, gardening with his sweet cheerful face.

I want to paint  the impossibility of a shark going vegan.

I want to paint the end of this poem.