Five and dime it, wood or steel, silver or gold,
Glass or diamonds, new or old.

Regardless how it’s framed, in color or black and white,
To wish that it could move, like a watch in it’s flight.

A breeze, a hand, a kiss, a fall,
The pair dance, smile, embrace, or nothing at all.

Like a painters hand, it creates,
It’s brush of life, love or a loss,
When finished, appreciates.

©2007, Ron Globe