Music notes fly through my ears. Soft sounds float in the air, as if they are floating on water. Music is like a paintbrush, painting sounds in the sky. A warm sun shining bright, clouds drifting far away in the night, to the sounds of music. Music is nature's friend, as one paints our earth, and the other fills our hearts. What may be the best title for this poem?
Painting Music Sunshine Warmhearted