P#06| a canvas of hope pt.1

Word count: around 593 in total, it's pretty long so I cut it to two posts so it won't be a hard read.

    "Paint me a canvas of hope, my dear"

    you said one day as the night drew near

    "A canvas of hope?" I asked

    she nodded, confirmed, and my shoulders relaxed.

    "Why that's no big deal" I chuckled about,

    an easy task, an easy night I thought outloud.

    As she cozied herself in the couch

    I picked up a brush and started out

    "this is how I would paint hope, dear ..."

    Would I dip my brush with white acrylic first?

    to draw those serene, calm, clouds

    drifting above our heads as we thirst

     for something more.

    With dreamlike sceneries blooming the darkness

    as our path lights up, spraying some kindness

    That's the first image when I think of hope,

    but hope is something more

    hope can be the single rusty rope

    dangling above our pride and ego,

    as we grab on with our last might,

    hanging on for dear life, that rope

    became our dear hope.

    Hope appears in daily scenarios too,

    look at the canvas, dear, see it's a school.

    Look it's a student,

    hope appears in that tiny single text "hey"

    that highschool jock just sent,

    apparently, nonchalantly,

    but look, she's beaming so widely

    her lips curled up in the smile

    she can't seem to hide.

    "That's lovely."

    "Yes, yes indeed."

    I also felt a rush of hope that day,

    As I was pining in sweat and shivers to say

    those magical four words

    I dared not mess up,

    I slowly got down on one knee

    unable to see your face out of fear,

    in case your eyes might gleam

    a rather disappointed light

    that your face might not beam

    as wide as I wished it to be.

    I pulled the ring out and looked up to see,

    and that smile I first saw,

    was bright enough for me.

    Your smile right there,

    that was hope for me.

continue here

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