Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Canvas speaks.....

.
The echoing voice of the gathering dumped my ears,
The admiration for me { painting} filled my semblance,
The painter worked day and night to create wonders ,
giving preference,
Each colour he used ,
each line he sketched ,
Created a mark on my bosom with fidelity,
The lines he drew,
the colours he filled,
the water he used,
Everything touched my blank canvas with his artistic paraphernalia,
The colour he used through his brush,
Making me beautiful to more beautiful in the arena,
I started glowing like femina,
Seeing the admiring stares I blush,
with little fear,
Oh! Is this me who draw the attention of gathering,
All because of your lovable brush,
And of your artistic hand and design.


14 comments:

  1. The paints on the canvas of our life is the imprint of god and he does this through an improviser. Nice write.

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