I watched as he etched
Blue colours so fine
A face that he painted
All hidden and light
Looking and staring he knew not I write
The man and his drawing
I studied his plight

Looking once more in my study
My itch
I needed to look at his drawing
So rich
The man he did scribble I see not his face
Intriguing my wanting
My look out of place

Now do I approach him
A tap or a smile
The man and his drawing
A wandering while
Do I disturb this master at work
The etch of the finest
Da Vinchi
I errk