It started with a blank canvas
It was not truly blank
For it bore the unseen burden of promise
For it held the texture
Of a calloused hand
The tone of tinted toil
The excellence
Of a gifted craftsman
Inscribe on a blank canvas.
It would tempt
The artist
Gift him
Faint flaws
Tease her
With threaded dalliance
Soft shadows
Cast the tint
Of imperfection’s challenge
The artist
Studied every angle
Fondled with his eyes
Every subtle twist
Of light
Of texture
Of tenor
Seized the promise
Of the blank canvas
Slowly mixed the paints
Caressed the canvas
Fulfilling its promise
With swirling brushes.
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2024
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