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The Colorist

he Colorist He searched the shelves of his heat and discovered hiding there his poetic palette, all his colors, true and fair. He opened the cupboard where the canvas frames lay and on an easel began to paint the shades of his heart's bouquet. The pastels freely flowed into a prismatic reflection of his latent memory of life's incostantt perfection. In the painting of his poems, his memories vividly convey all the joys and sorrows he came to know along his way.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 4/2/2016 2:11:00 AM
John, Welcome to Poetry soup, I hope you enjoy the community. Here, you will find friendly poets who enjoy supporting one another. I myself, enjoy reading and commenting those who want to be read. The only time I give constructive criticism is when a poet desires it. However, if for some reason the poem is not my field I will guide you to someone who is more qualified than I. Stop by and read one of my poems if you like. My poems are not perfect, but I have a feeling you might like one. I encourage you to check out the contest page and read to receive comments. Tell me a little about your poetic skills if you like. It will be my pleasure to follow and read every poem you post from here on :) We are Lucky To Have you. Your New Poet Friend @-> LINDA <-@
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Book: Shattered Sighs