I suppose this poem is really special because it won me first place in a creative writing competition and a nice bit of cash too!



He unveils the creamy-white flesh,

It blooms behind his eyes

like an Iceberg Rose.


His best friend and lover,

Gently resting between his fingers,

Ready to drench the delicate flower.


This brown-haired love

mixes the colours of his emotions,

Light and dark, bitter and sweet.


She tastes the swell of his passion,

A silent hiss while she soaks a new canvas,

Coating majestic white horses in shades of blue.


Cobalt Blue, for thoughts lost in the ocean’s gaze;

Viridian, for tears released from the sky;

Cerulean, for the tide one cannot control.


He is no longer a struggling artist

when he turns to paint

the blue moving-garden of love.


He is no longer a troubled artist,

But an artist who is free,

As free as the ocean.


His wounds are healed with every stroke,

Waves are crashing, his soul is calm;

The painting is complete.


The artist will no longer despair,

Leaving behind an oil sea of Summer Nights,

With a salty scent in his hair.



sea painting






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