An Artist's Legacy

Threads of waxy turpentine woven 'cross the spans of time Tossed away from art's 'amen' only to be bruised again Horse hair brushes dipped to shine silk in oil, cleansed divine Soaked in ochre, touched to white canvas breathes an ochre sigh From clean palette worlds ignite Straw reflections, sharp delight Portraits posed and shadows drawn leaving art to speak alone Turpentine on air dried skin painted with a hue of sin Signed then dated, frame: a must woven colors, blood and rust.