You paint pictures in my mind.
As you sing them in design, all made in careful time.
Can words and colors rhyme?

In the frame, to me you came, but the line you sang was fine.
But is that not your sign?
Singing in design?
Is there a rhyme?

That goes with you?

You sing sonnents in my head,
Words so nicely said,
Do you think it worked,
Or instead, lived among the dead?

Maybe words won't mix with song,
Could both just have the heart?
Made with perfect time?

Maybe it would start,
and then just fall apart,
destroying our design,

Or could it rhyme?