I see trees of green
A beautiful painting is like poetry
Red roses too
The words are colours
I see 'em bloom
And the scenes are actually feelings
For me and you
Aah, and if I could paint
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The moon and the hills it would be first
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
The rain spattering on the windowpane
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
The coffee mug with a pair of jhoomkas next to it, entangled in each other
Are also on the faces of people going by
The small boy selling gajras at the signal, barefoot, one hand holding the umbrella over his small frame
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin'.. how do you do
A deer nuzzling the other
They're really sayin'......I love you
A child with chocolate on her chubby hands, breaking into a grin, teeth missing in places
I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
Oh, how I wish I could paint, sketch the world as I see it
They'll learn much more.....than I'll never know
Not necessarily the way it would seem to the others
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself .......what a wonderful world


I often hum while I write or while I drive or even when I am doing nothing worth remembering. What you have just read is an attempt to weave in a melody into my written thoughts. The blue colored lyrics belong to the song "What A Wonderful World" by Louis Amstrong.

The inspiration for this post?
These paintings
You wouldnt blame me for this sudden longing for an easel, a canvas, paintbrushes et al.