Lots of Paint

I bought an old house that was such an eyesore;
I turned it into something folks could adore
with lots of paint;
paint, paint, paint, paint, paint.
The house was quite quaint,
I did not fetter restraint,
with lots of paint.

The house was weathered and as gray as could be;
but I gave it a look of pure energy
with lots of paint;
paint, paint, paint, paint, paint.
With roller and brush,
my house became such a rush,
with lots of paint.

And even inside did I hear faded calls;
so I enlivened ugly ceiling and walls
with lots of paint;
paint, paint, paint, paint, paint.
So now I abide
inside with consummate pride.
The paint had dried.

21 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
July 3, 2014