Poetry, poem, thoughts, reflection

December magic 

    There’s magic in your very core. 
    Figures become shadows 
    Voices fall like feather 
    When I stand there, listening to you. 

    Your magic takes in colors.
    And just like that, with that one gentle brush stroke, 
    You paint me in unimagined colors. 

    The palette of what if
    has never been this comforting. 
    The canvas of so what 
    has never been this real. 

    The art you drew upon my spirit fills me 
    with a kind of happiness that can last 
    a lifetime. 


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