Faded Frescoes
Broken,
shattered frescoes,
faded with time,
dimmed in memories,
of artists,
long buried and gone,
paints chipping in all places,
and edges shorn,
this is what time had to do,
and it had done,
they still recalled,
the days of toil,
spent in getting ideas honed,
mind ached as moved in,
the plotty fresco plan,
pencilled with tedium and care,
it was still rocking and bare,
paints ,palettes and brushes,
all came,
flowers,bark,rocks and fruits,
were milked to get required hues,
they worked hard on bristles,
so that filling in was not hustled,
wrists ached and eyes baked,
before frescoes had sprung to life,
time leaves none,
first it got the artists,
and now the art.
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