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We are all surrounded
By God's loving colors,
He knew what He was doing
With His magical paintbrush.

He gave us azure skies
With just a tad of white,
He then painted flowers
Magnificent fragrance as well.

He designed trees to be changed
To wonderous, beautiful colors in the fall,
Letting us dance through the leaves
Enjoying the way He had it arranged.

Last, but not least
He took His paintbrush to the sky
To see a beautiful rainbow
After a warm, summer's rain.

Copyright Cynthia Jones
Sept.30/3005

I think this is the first time I've written stanzas without a rhyme scheme. It felt great. :o)