In the paradox of patience time unfolds,
Like pearls of dew in the morning’s cold.
The Prince, impatient for love’s sweet grace,
Paints from the rooftop longing for love’s embrace.

A pigeon post, a message takes flight,
Through day and night, in the soft moonlight.
A portrait crafted with strokes so divine,
Capturing moments in love’s intertwining line.

The Princess and the Goblins, a waiting game,
A paradox of patience, she holds in her name.
On the canvas of earth, a paradox of buds in bloom
He paints a prologue to spring, dispelling winter’s gloom.

A pigeon post, a message in flight,
carries a painting through day and night.
Yet, returns with nothing for the would-be King.
The Prince waits as he paints scenes of spring.

Pearls of dew, glistening in dawn’s caress,
A paradoxical beauty, in nature’s finesse.
Messengers of love, the pigeon again takes flight,
Through valleys and trees, in the soft twilight.

While on the rooftop, winter’s chill persists,
The Prince paints scenes of spring and enlists
the portrait of time, a masterpiece so grand,
Patience is painted in tales by a masterful hand.

Pigeon post, messenger of love flying on the breeze,
Carrying canvas after canvas through valleys and trees.
Portraits painted with dreams disguised in strokes of grace,
Capturing moments in time, memories of love’s embrace.

The Princess and the Goblins, wait in realms unknown
The Princess for rescue, the Goblins to be overthrown,
Prologue to Spring, where on canvas, nature is reborn,
The Prince puts paints away in the soft winter morn.

The Prince dies to his dreams and lays them to rest,
closes the keep and the pigeons retire to their nest.
In the paradoxical complexity of time’s fleeting wing,
Patience prevails, and winter gives way to a perennial spring.