Art

Just like Mother Nature who changes on a whim

The balmy sun – fresh air we breathe – or torments felt within…

Words in rhyme describe my soul; they scream what I can’t say –

Reflections of my deepest thoughts are spread out on display.

The paper, blank within my hands, will hold what I deem real.

I won’t alter how the wording forms – they’ll naturally reveal -

Each hand stroke moves and changes with every breath I take

Giving life, love and value to all that I create.

Know that what you’re reading assembled in my soul.

To illustrate its honesty defines my only goal!

Enjoy the little corner of my mind you now sustain,

And grant me faith my heartfelt Art has not been made in vain.