We can paint within our thoughts
Otherworldy places
With unexplainable graces,
That live inside our head.
Paisley rooms allowed,
Lakes bejeweled with crystal-
And atmospheres mystical;
Moods like colored beads.
Cottages to rest in,
Bedspreads just to nest in-
Of chenille or taffeta-
Though nothing really matters,
Where time and space, grow thin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem