Crawl into the painting,
slip in between strokes,
wrap up in warm colour.
It hangs there waiting,
in a drab sitting room,
dust over its entrance,
broken bottles below.
Beauty in chemicals,
powdered still waves,
an idyllic harbour,
away from the storm.
She stands there silently,
looking out to the seven seas,
water coloured by her charm.
A face that was never painted,
a familiar soul,
with welcoming arms,
beckoning the oceans,
inviting us to escape.
serene
Halcyon Pale
You float,
that is the best way to describe it,
it’s also the worst,
you’re better than that.
Your skin is the palest blue,
you are the envy of the sky.
Clouds won’t touch you,
oceans will mimic you,
lost air who found each other,
an angel between atmosphere and space.
You’ve probably had many names
throughout our history,
clarity can’t compare.
I can’t define you,
never will we.
Halcyon Pale is how I think of you,
but it will never pass my lips.
You are forever.
I.J. Keddie 
