The Artist

otterboy2000

Every stroke of his brush sweeps away emptiness like a broom,
Painting stories in my mind.
Each splash of color a new adventure
Into an unexplored wonderland,
Discovering treasures with every passing second.
His canvas is a violin,
And the brush his humble bow.
The sound of music overwhelming,
The rhythm consumes my soul.
Chiseling at near perfection, refining gold,
His masterpiece complete.

Limitless possibilities captured in a tube of ink,
Set free to run, never looking back.
The pen dances across the page,
Unchoreographed, brand new.
The tip a needle
And her thoughts the thread,
Sewing a story only she can tell.
Each time she stops to think,
Time stops itself.
The pen hits the paper again,
Resurrecting a whole world to life.
Taste the imagery, feel the sounds,
Hear the words rest on the page.

She sweeps her brush off the canvas
With one last stroke.
He picks up his pen
After one last word.
Artist appreciating…

View original post 10 more words

Advertisements

Talk back, yo. :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: