Painters

"Painters"


Eighty years,
an old lady now,
sitting on the front porch
Watching the clouds roll by
they remind her of her lover,
how he left her
And of times long ago
when she used color carelessly,
painted his portrait
A thousand times -
or maybe just his smile -

And she and her canvas
would follow him wherever he would go
'Cause they were painters,
and they had painted themselves,
a lovely world

Oil streaked daisies
covered the living room wall
He put water colored roses in her hair
He said, "Love, I love you,
I want to give you the mountains,
the sunshine,
the sunset too"

I just want to give you
a world as beautiful
as you are to me
'Cause they were painters,
and they had painted themselves,
a lovely world

So they sat down
and made a drawing of their love,
they made it an art
to live by
They painted every passion
every home,
created every beautiful child

In the winter
they were weavers of warmth,
in the summer they were
carpenters of love
They thought blue prints
were too sad
so they made them yellow

Until one day the rain fell
as thick as black oil
And in her heart
she knew something was wrong

She went running through the orchard screaming
'No God, don't take him from me!'
But by the time she got there,
she feared he already had gone

She got to where he lay,
water colored roses in his hands for her
She threw them down screaming,
'Damn you man, don't leave me
With nothing left behind
but these cold paintings,
these cold portraits
to remind me!'

He said, 'Love I only leave,
but only a little,
try to understand
I put my soul in this life
we've created with these four hands

Love, I leave,
but only a little,
this world holds me still
My body may die now,
but these paintings are real'

So many seasons came
and so many seasons went
And many times she saw
her love's face watering the flowers
Talking to the trees
and singing to his children

And when the wind blew,
she knew he was listening
And how he seemed to laugh along,
and how he seemed to hold her when
she was crying

'Cause they were painters,
and they had painted themselves,
a lovely world


Jewel