Creator or the Creation ?

Out in the lush green lawn,
At the beautiful crimson dawn,
It was pleasant and peaceful,
In those mountains grand and graceful.
Constantly moving clouds weaving varied designs,
Playing hide and seek with sun's golden beams.

He was waiting for the girl of his dreams,
To gift her the perfect painting of his love.
His brush strokes were so smooth and soft,
as he desired no harm or pain to 'her',
caressing the 'body' curves with colors so beautiful,
As hot blood rushed through his veins.

She came in like a gentle morning breeze,
Staring shyly at the portrait of self, pleasantly surprised,
Pressed her soft lips against his,
And whispered with a pounding heart,
As her misty eyes fixed on his magnificent art,
"WHY DO I NEED THE CREATION WHEN I HAVE THE CREATOR ?"