If I asked you

If I asked you

To paint a picture

What would it be

Tall ships on the water

In full sail

An angel on the foredeck

Battle hardened veterans

With broken hearts

One-armed men

In uniform

Pretty ladies

All in a row

Waving white flags

Welcome mats

Pulled to one side

A house with no doors

In a street with no perspective

Little children

With bright eyes

Closed

Playing blind man’s buff

In a firestorm

A world at war

Such lovely colours

Bleeding through

The paper

Like a rainbow

Make me a wish

Try to picture

How it would look

From the far side

Beyond a Turner sunset

Further than Vincent

Ever dreamed

In fields of rolled gold

Beneath breathless stars

Sleeping on a hay wain

That becomes

The Queen’s state coach

Pulled by eight

Shire horses

At the gallop

Running from the law

Of diminishing returns

The more you try

To capture what is out there

The less you see

Of what you leave

Behind