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The Painter

You show us scenes From everywhere; Lands North, East, West and South. You describe bees And flowers and trees, But never with your mouth. It's through your brushstrokes That we learn Of feather, fin or fur. I can see things That really are, Or things that never were. You tell of people, Places, things That we may never see. You teach us of the universe With your beautiful imagery. Through lines, points, Curves and colors: Painter, you are so kind. I can see exactly what you see, But only in my mind.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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Book: Shattered Sighs