he painted flourishing gardens
and stunning landscapes
using a palette of superb
colour drapes

in his homeland they toast
him with champagne
for his canvases hang
in their art gallery's lane

his works are worth
many millions of dollars
and they've been studied
by generations of scholars

of the impressionist style
was he
he had brush daubing
down to a tee

paint me a picture
if you possibly can
that will tell me
of this creative man

color
blank
color
a white sheet of paper
to some,
intimidating
to others,
an inviting canvas
sharpies lined up
in a rainbow
hand picked
and thought out
by ink-stained hands
blank
then a line
what a miracle
the marker is
to create
with nothing
but the turn of a wrist
drag it along
with your rainbow of colors
and create
perhaps a red penciled rose
With few of blue
and thorns of green
or maybe
a cerulean sea
turquoise waves
white froth
emerald turtles
and golden sand
or possibly
a boy
with ashen hair
and icy eyes
rose petal cheeks
and baby-soft lips
create
something beautiful
colors
and dreams
create
blank
create

With the sun
The fire spirits
Bring amber hues
Golden and applied
To a weathered canvas
In the deep blue water
Floating in pools
Of violet and marine
Evermore fulfilling
Evaporating then only
Descending into the
Emerald green
And soft grass
Holding flowers
Giving them
A cordial of life
With her laughter
Echoing afar.

Will it be shining again all blue water?
Now is up to the luck.
Far from the twilight beach the sun
jumped in the sea is out of the light out of colour.
Lest it dives out catching the moon in the dark!

Twinkly stars, the studded diamond set
up in the high sky softly whisper:
As dark descends, a new moon
can drown with blindfolded eyes
but never lose her sway!

Over the black canvas of the darkened sea
lapping up one more dwarf - a submerged sun,
the untouched moon comes out.
And by now all the half-lit light bulbs up in the sky,
the cherubic stars are mirrored upon the sea water.
Now will the moon paint its mystique blue limelight
or will toy away once again being untouched?

beauty is a selfish pursuit. wild endeavours stood before me on short legs, her eyes seducing me with a look I’d never seen before. Her body was voluptuous; in a way that she could hide a flaw. with her smile, with her face I decided she was a canvas. she moved in feelings, and my brush was stiff. I couldn’t move her way so I made her move mine, and she obliged with a heart full of love. and she danced with her fingers between mine, so I would feel safe that her heart was with me. And now she moved in paint and my brush created a perfect picture of this woman who was mine. Although beneath the thick layer of colour I created for me, was not a blank canvas but a selfless soul who wanted to be free. A pursuit of beauty in another, for my own selfish needs. So I can hold her hand and call her my own. and so you see I’ve painted a pretty picture congratulate me. this canvas could’ve been many things and she hung herself upon a wall for me, to stay put forever.

Every child is an artwork of God
He chose this world, as his canvas

Men & Women are his brushes
He painted with love, as his medium

Every child is special
Every special child is God's own child

Making a difference for such a child is a blessing
Making them smile may change your/their world

Let's aspire!
Let's inspire!!