Beneath The Painted Sky
Wisps of clouds float by
God has been working with his paints,
Reds, pinks and purples are elegant
But, I don't have any complaints.
I look out my livingroom window
All I think about, is you,
Hoping you're looking up at the same sky
And thinking of me too.
I long to hold your strong hand
And to never let you go,
Beneath the painted sky
Is where all my tears flow.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
May.13/2006
I was looking at the sunset, when I came up with this one.
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Beneath The Painted Sky
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