What are silent? My hair swishing in the wind, a leaf gently falling to the ground and the feeling of pride filling me with joy.

What are loud? Planets colliding in outer space, a rocket launch lead by NASA, and a deafening squeak of a bedraggled old stuffed toy.

What is strong? The current of the Bermuda triangle, the determination of Usain Bolt at the start line at the Olympics and the bond between best friends.

What are weak? New born Bambi taking his first steps, the love between enemies and an ancient silk handkerchief.

What are light? A star glistening in the pitch-black sky, a reflection of my teacher’s personality and a spring sunlight at noon.

What are dark? A villain’s soul, a forest in the dead of night and the bottom of the ocean.

What is hot? The melting polar ice caps of the Arctic, the rage between conflicting countries and the bubbling lava of a colossal volcano.

What is cold? Vanilla ice cream frozen solid, the chilling plot of a murderer and the tip of Mount Everest.

I want to paint

a useful umbrella open like a blanket covering the earth as black as the night sky,

a ginormous giant gouging colossal holes in the land with every footstep he takes,

a lushious green lime looking pretty sitting in the ceramic fruit bowl,

a terrifying T-rex terrorising the entire kingdom.

I want to paint

a ravenous rabbit rushing to the restaurant determined to get the deep fried carrot,

a jiggling jelly jumping  from plate to plate like a slinky going down the stairs,

a vicious vulture verging on starvation,

an admirable ant with a body the size of a crumb.

I want to paint

a fluffy cat soaking up the beautiful sunshine’s warmth on the bright green grass,

a scary storm signalling the end of the small village,

puzzled Phoebe pondering on a maths question,

an electric eel eeking through the cracks as quiet as a mouse.

I want to paint the end of this poem.