Before the start,
All that was there was a blank canvass.
It waited patiently for the artist
To pick up her brush and begin
Slowly and tenderly to awaken her craft…
To be displayed out in the world.
*
At the start,
She was momentarily lost in her mind
She did not know where and how to begin
A memory she conjured up
To try and transfer it onto the canvass…
To be displayed out in the world.
*
In the middle,
She had begun working furiously
With each stroke a feeling of release
As the colours clashed before her -
It shaped up be a story that began to take form…
To be displayed out in the world.
*
Near the end,
She paid attention to the little details
With black paint she outlined the figures –
To make them stand out from the grey background
Where all her troubles were blended in…
To be displayed out in the world.
*
At the end,
She was relieved to have done it
All her problems on the canvass made her feel giddy.
A match she then bought out and struck
And tossed it onto the painting to watch it burn
And with it all her problems…
That used to be displayed out in the world.
~*~*~
Just experimenting with a different form and rhythm of poetry as always haha.
Vote and comment if you liked it :)
Steff