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Some poems The painting A swirl of images on a canvas, The artist a buzz with excitement, His desires unleashed upon the helpless canvas, A swish of the brush brings life to the canvas, Oh the images how they long to become Apart of the artist life, They beg and plead for life, Yet the Artist has his desires set upon one image His deft hands working miracles upon his canvas A swish and the canvas shudders in ecstasy A thrill of joy leaps in The artist heart, For the time draws near, His work comes to an end Yet no sorrow touch his heart. The painting becomes life Enrich with the artist life, The painting is but a reflection of The muse A divine love captured in paint. Transcended by your touch, Within your warmth I stand, Reborn made anew, Flesh and soul rebuilt by your touch, I hear your names so clearly, I can taste your love upon my lips, I seethe with resolve, Your light pours over my body, Trickles into my souls, Fills me with direction, Your have taken me with a single sweep of love, Just show me the way, I am reborn form the ashes I am molded, Fashioned in your love, I am yours forever and I will stay with you, I will stay with you till the sun burns itself out. I will stay with you my love…. |
Re: Some poems The first poem, is that a depiction of your painting? It is indeed a very accurate account of what goes through the mind of a dedicated artist. I find that poem to be quite good. Excellent work! |
Re: Some poems No not my painting I'm poet not a painter. It was I don't know just a word that popped into my head and I ran with it. |
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