The colours swing in a pendulum attached to the mind
as if
each shade knows its final resting place
in a landscape packed with the purity of clarity.

All of the brushes have been tenderly placed
in a potholder soaking
up the sensations of previous lifetimes
now slowly turning to ageing grey shades
of temperament

To touch the sunflower grey would be a sin
against the sun it glints off the minds magical array
but green beckons in an eversoft seduction
with silver on the undersides to offshoot
the tantrums of the painters reflection.

The scene emerges from a warm blanket of texture
into a tone so gentle that it seems to whisper its presence
in a vase of rounded personality.

I watch
as she loses herself in every stroke of deftness
stepping out into the limelight
taking a bow before an audience of murmurs
soon retreating into that world
that has captured her for today.

She will return when she is ready.
to live amongst us again.