To be lost in the Art,
Is my greatest pleasure.
The floating peace that pulls me apart
From the reality I have departure.
The freedom that it brings,
The joy that makes my heart sing.
Colours, textures, notes and words,
Float onto their place on the cords.
The completeness of absolute fulfilment,
That this is my soul’s joyous chore.
My tasks I will happily compliment,
And never ever abhor.
To take hold of the brush, pen or pastel,
Suits my heart and soul very well.
The blank page my beginning,
The completed art, my heart singing.
The built up stress I do decrease,
Art is for me the sweetest release.