I woke

Not from the kindest of sleeps,

I decided

I should do something

Of purpose.

I would paint

The gate.

The sky was a weak pale blue,

The sun

A very watery

yellow.

I should paint

The gate.

I took a brush,

I had decided

The paint,

Royal blue.

I should paint

The gate.

Brush strokes,

Here and there,

Up and down,

I knew not where.

I should paint

The gate.

As I brushed

I thought 

Of you

I think you should know.

This gate is all for you.

Owain Glyn