I want to paint…

I want to paint, a  swooping peregrine falcon diving down ( at 380mph)  trying to catch its prey, an innocent wood pigeon. Secondly a vibrant midnight blue *** soaring across my small, teal front garden trying to spot it’s lunch. I want to paint an eye-caching leaf dancing in the breeze as it picks up.

I want to paint the smell of a deelishis barbeque, with sausages sizzling in a back garden. I want to paint the impossibility of a tree walking along the busy road holding up the cars.

I want to paint the end of this poem.