by Valley Hope

Created on: February 07, 2011

The canvas is blank, 
Amongst untouched paint, 
The artist sits staring, 
Brush in hand, 
His eyes like water dams, 
Who would understand? 

With my head near the window, 
My breath upon the window pain, 
I hear what my mother taught, 
“Wipe and peek again”

Peeking with excitement, 
I’m shaking like a leaf, 
The artist just sits there, 
Peaceful as a leaf, 

He starts to cry, 
As I look on, 
With brush in hand, he lifts his arm, 
Strokes his tears with his brush, 
Bristles soaked in salty eyes drops, 
Then paints with emotion.....

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